


Alone Together

by orphan_account



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Boarding School AU, Eating Disorders, High School AU, M/M, Teen!Greg, teen!Mycroft, teen!lock
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-11-13
Updated: 2014-12-15
Packaged: 2018-01-01 09:36:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 38,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1043282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Greg Lestrade is just starting at Eton at sixteen with a full scholarship, the only way his family would have ever been able to afford sending him there. He doesn't expect to enjoy his time there too much, but he goes because he knows it makes his mother proud. Things turn out a bit differently than expected when he meets the prefect that's been assigned to watch over him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. In Which They Meet and Greg is Sassy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, looking back at this (I've just finished with Chapter 15 as I write this) I've come to realize that this really isn't some of my best work. I do plan on coming back to edit this eventually, but at the moment, I'm more focused on finishing this up and not letting me fall into the usual adventure of starting a fic and then never finishing it. So, while I will be editing this (and a few of the starting chapters) I haven't done so yet. So, I would appreciate it if you gave the rest of the fic a chance because I do promise that the writing improves as it goes on. Thanks and if you do choose to read, thank you and I hope you enjoy it! :)

“Yes, Mum, of course I’ll be fine.” Greg assured her for what felt like the millionth time that day. Not that he blamed her for worrying. She was dropping him off at Eton and wasn’t going to see him again until his next break. To be honest, Greg was scared as well, but if he let his mom know that, she’d probably take him back home with her.

His mother took one last look around his dorm. “Are you sure?” she asked, leaning down to smooth out his blankets one more time.

“Mum.” He reached down and put her hand in both of his. “I’m fine. Don’t worry.” Greg said, kissing her forehead. “Now, go before the twins take advantage of your not being there and start reaping havoc all through London.”

“I suppose you’re right.” she admitted, pulling him into one last hug. “I’m going to miss you, dear.”

“I’m going to miss you too, Mum. You know I will.” he murmured, hugging her back tightly. He wanted to let go no more than she did, though he didn’t express it as clearly as she.

She pulled back, looking up at her eldest son with a teary smile. “You behave, all right? Be good, study, make friends. Make me proud, okay, Greg?”

“Of course, Mum.” he promised, nodding. Gently, he nudged her towards the door. “You’ve got to go now. Or we both know you never will.”

She sighed, starting to walk away. “Be sure to call, Greg.” she said, casting one last glance at him before walking off towards the exit of the building.

Greg called out his affirmation after her before closing his dorm door. With an exhausted sigh, he threw himself backwards on his bed, staring up at the ceiling. He had no idea what he’d been thinking when applied to go to school here. He was sure this must have been considered some form of masochism or something.  
Greg had never actually expected to be accepted into Eton, let alone with the full scholarship he needed to actually be able to afford coming. He was completely out of his comfort zone here. All the boys he’d passed on his way up to his dorm with his mother had all looked as though they were rich enough to buy his entire family. And probably still have enough pocket money left to buy out his flat as well.

Boys at Eton were rich and posh and Greg was willing to bet they were cold and self entitled as well. They couldn’t get any more different from Greg and his family. His mother, a widow, had been working two jobs to support Greg and his four younger siblings ever since their father had died in Afghanistan when Greg was ten. They didn’t have the most luxurious lives, but Greg didn’t particularly care. They had each other and that was enough for him. He was more than sure, though, that none of the other boys here gave a damn about family and only cared about bank accounts.

He missed his mother already. He missed his brothers and his sisters. He missed his friends back home and his own bed. It was pathetic, Greg knew. He’d been gone less than a day. But he couldn’t help it. Being away from them, even for a short while, was all new to him.

He was ripped away from his thoughts by a stiff knock at the door. He groaned, hopping to his feet and going to open the door. “Yeah?” he asked, leaning against the door frame and looking at the boy who had knocked. It was another student, around his age and rather official looking.

“You’re Gregory Lestrade, yes?” the boy asked, raising an eyebrow as he looked him over. Greg couldn’t help but feel he was being inspected or something similar.

“It’s Greg, not Gregory. And yeah, I am.” he nodded, crossing his arms over his chest. “Who’re you?”

“Mycroft Holmes.” the boy (Mycroft apparently, which Greg thought was ridiculous, honestly, who named their child Mycroft?) answered, holding his hand out. “I’m a prefect in your year. We have most of the same classes together, so the headmaster’s asked me to look over you until you get settled in.”

“Ah. I’m gonna follow you around like a lost puppy these first few days. Got it.” he nodded, grinning at Mycroft and shaking his hand. He looked the ginger boy over as subtly as he could, silently thanking the headmaster for at the very least giving him one of the cute prefects.  
Mycroft didn’t seem to find it as amusing and merely pursed his lips, pulling his hand back. “Dinner starts soon. You’d best get ready.” he said before striding down the hall and going into his own room.

“What? Not gonna show me the way? What if I get lost?” Greg called after him teasingly, laughing.

He could already tell he was going to have quite a lot of fun with this one. He doubted Mycroft would be interested in him, but a bit of harmless flirting wouldn’t hurt. Or maybe he’d get a friend out of it. Or, at the very least, someone to annoy until Mycroft had decided he’d filled out his duties sufficiently. Greg stepped back into his room, closing the door behind him and inspecting himself in the mirror. It still felt weird to be wearing the uniform and he always felt as though he was wearing something wrong. He was sure he’d checked his reflection more today than he did all year long. He didn’t want to look like an idiot with a crooked bow tie or something. He hummed to himself as he styled his hair into place, wondering if his usual spikes would get him in trouble here. He didn’t want to risk it, so he just let his hair and bangs fall down into place instead of spiking them up like he usually did. He had a feeling his usual punk rock style wasn’t going to see the light of day here at Eton. It’d be fun to push at the limits and see how far he could get away with, though. About fifteen minutes before dinner time, there was another stiff knock at Greg’s door and he smirked to himself as he went to open it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter's a bit short because it's more of a prologue than anything. But I promise the next ones will be longer! :D


	2. In Which Mycroft is a Dick

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I forgot to mention that this fic is loosely based off a roleplay I have going on. So a lot of credit goes to my rp partner for inspiration and coming up with certain plot points. :)

It was Mycroft at the door, just like Greg had expected. Greg didn’t think it possible, but he looked even posher than he had before. His hair was slicked back now, the knot in his bowtie looked tighter, and it looked as though he’d polished his shoes, though that might have just been his imagination. Greg grinned at him as he opened the door, but Mycroft’s smile in return looked painfully forced.

“Hey, mate. You look… expensive.” Greg said, shoving his room key into his pocket and closing his dorm door behind him.

“And you look out of place.” Mycroft commented coldly. “Are you ready?”

Greg put on an exaggerated look of hurt to hide how much it actually stung. “Ouch! I’m wounded. How could you say such a thing?”

He rolled his eyes. “I’ll take that as a yes,” he said, turning and started to walk down the hallway.

Greg chased after him. “Shouldn’t you be giving me a tour or somethin’? Pointing out what all this shit is.” He gestured to the hallways around him, which were covered in expensive paintings and a few sculptures. “I’m sure the school’s got tons of history they love to boast.”

“If you’re really interested - which I doubt if your musical taste is anything to go by - I can tell you tomorrow as we walk to class. Right now, we’re late for dinner and should really be focusing on walking there as quickly as possible.” Mycroft looked over his shoulder to give him a pointed look.

Greg rolled his eyes, sarcastically remarking, “God forbid we’re late to dinner. Dinner of all things. What’re we gonna miss? A riveting lecture on how to properly hold your silverware? Or is the first day always used for the lessons on the history of mashed potatoes. And what could you possibly know about my musical taste?”

“I know quite a bit about you, Gregory. It’s simple, really. It’s written all over you.” Mycroft said, leading them out of their dorm building and directing them over to a much larger building.

“So you like read up on my file or something? Hate to break it to you, mate, but that’s kind of creepy.” Greg said, laughing. Of course he got stuck with the cute and psycho one. Why wouldn’t he?

“I didn’t read anything.” Mycroft shook his head. “Just you. It’s quite obvious, really. As people tend to be.”

He raised an eyebrow, looking over at him curiously. “Is that like… a magic trick or somethin’?”

Mycroft scoffed, shaking his head. “No. Simply science. I wouldn’t expect you to understand.”

“Gee, thanks.” he muttered sarcastically. It seemed the boys here, at least Mycroft, were just as posh and stuck up as he expected them to be. He didn’t see himself making any long term friends here, but he was sure he could have some fun at their expense.

Mycroft didn’t talk much the rest of the way. Greg wasn’t sure if he liked that or not. Everything Mycroft said seemed to be offensive, but he felt even more awkward just walking silently. He’d rather get insulted than just silently glared at. At least when he was being sassed, from afar it almost looked as though he had a friend. When they got to the dining hall, Mycroft held the door open for him, though Greg was pretty sure he only did that because of his public image, not because he actually cared.

“Well… Thanks for bringing me here.” Greg said a bit awkwardly, tugging at the edge of his uniform jacket. “I think I can find a table on my own, thanks. You’ve been lots of help, Mycroft.”

“I’ll sit with you.” Mycroft offered. “I don’t think the headmaster would like it much if I left you sititng alone.” He grabbed Greg by the arm and led him over to a table which was still empty. He sat down across from Greg.

At this point, Greg was starting to get more than just a little confused. It was like a good prefect, bad prefect act. “Uh… Thanks, mate. I appreciate it.” He nodded gratefully, smiling at him as he served food onto his plate.

“I’m not your ‘mate’.” Mycroft corrected, his nose scrunching up. “I’m simply fulfilling my duties as a prefect.”

“Right…” he nodded, poking at his mashed potatoes dejectedly. Back to bad prefect. Greg much preferred the good prefect act.

Mycroft didn’t talk at all the rest of dinner. Not that it mattered much. Only about five minutes in, a man stepped up to the front of the dining hall. Greg noticed that the man had quite a lot of resemblance to Mycroft. That was explained when he introduced himself as Siger Holmes, the headmaster. Ah. No wonder Mycroft had cared so much about filling out his instructions perfectly. He spent nearly twenty minutes talking about what a wonderful year they were going to have, as well as going over some school rules. Greg had already spaced out by the second minute.

As the headmaster talked, Greg ate absentmindedly, daydreaming about what he would have been doing if he was back home. He snapped out of it when he heard the rest of the boys start clapping. He joined in the polite clapping, not wanting to seem rude in front of Mycroft, who was obviously related to the man in some form.

After Headmaster Holmes’s speech dinner passed by rather quickly. Greg didn’t mind much that Mycroft didn’t talk throughout dinner. The new school was still extremely overwhelming for Greg and the silence between them gave him a chance to just think and get used to it all. When they were dismissed, Mycroft walked next to him as they returned to the dorms.

“So… Is the headmaster your father?” Greg asked, attempting to start a conversation. He liked the silence, but he wasn’t sure for how much longer he would appreciate it. He was naturally social. Silence for too long unnerved him.

Mycroft nodded. “Yes. And the head of the Board of Directors is my Uncle. My family has been here for centuries.”

“Wow… That’s pretty impressive. I guess you’re who I should be friends with if I want connections?” Greg laughed.

Mycroft scoffed, shaking his head. “I don’t even get connections, and they’re my family. I doubt you’d get any special treatment.”

“I’m just joking. No need to get fussy.” Greg said, chuckling. He had to be on his best behavior around Mycroft. He didn’t want Mycroft to be reporting back to his father or something like that. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t have a little fun with him.

Mycroft nodded wordlessly as they continued walking. Greg had a feeling he’d be getting to the silence over the next few days. Until he made some friends, anyway. Even rich kids played football, didn’t they? He’d probably meet a few boys through that.

They made it all the way to their dorm floor before Mycroft talked again. “I’m handing out schedules in the morning. But I’ve got yours in my room. I could give it to you, if you’d like?” he offered.

Greg nodded. “I’d really appreciate that.” he said gratefully.

Mycroft nodded stiffly, going over to his room and unlocking the door. He held the door open, gesturing for Greg to go inside. Mycroft’s room was the exact opposite of Greg’s room. Greg had only been in his room for a few hours and he’d already managed to make a mess of his room. There were clothes which he meant to hang up scattered all over his bed, several of his posters were on the desk waiting to be hung up, and his books were all over the floor. His books were all lined up along his shelves - as far as Greg could tell, they were in alphabetical order as well-, he didn’t have a single poster or decoration, and his bed was done with bloody hospital corners. It was ridiculously posh.

Mycroft went over to his desk and pulled open a drawer. He pulled out a small square of paper and passed it over to Greg. “That’s your schedule. as I said before, we share all our classes. I’ll stop by your dorm at 8:15 to pick you up. That works, yes?”

Greg looked it over, nodding. None of the classes looked like anything he’d detest. He could do without the math classes, of course, but nothing he couldn’t handle. “Sounds good. I’ll see you then. Sleep well, man. See ya in the morning.”

Mycroft nodded, leading him to the door. “Good night, Gregory.” he said, closing the door the second Greg stepped outside the room.

Greg chuckled, shaking his head. Mycroft was a strange one, indeed. He was already planning out how he would corrupt Mycroft. Teenagers were meant to have fun, not spend their days in neatly organized rooms with alphabetically ordered textbooks. He went back to his room, feeling at ease in the mess. It felt more like home than the rest of the school. He laid across the bed, checking his phone for any missed calls. His mother had called twice. Typical. He dialed her number, already bracing himself for the million questions.

The phone only ran twice before she picked up. “Greg! How are you, dear? Have you made any friends? Is everyone treating you well? How was dinner?”

“Mum! You have to let me answer before asking any more questions.” Greg interrupted, laughing. “I’m fine. Like I told you, I’ll be just fine. I haven’t really made any friends, but I’ve only been here a few hours. I have a prefect looking out for me these first few days, so I won’t get lost. And dinner was great, Mum. Don’t worry. I’m not starvin’ or anything.”

He could hear the telltale signs of kitchen appliances in the background. No doubt she was baking, as she tended to do when she was nervous or worried. “All right, if you say so, sweetheart. Your brothers and sister miss you terribly. Keep asking when you’re coming back.”

Greg smiled at the thought of his younger siblings. “Tell them I miss them as well. And give them all a hug from me. My leave will be here before you know it.” It seemed weird to already be thinking about vacation when school had barely just started, but the Lestrade family was closely knit together. They hated being away from each other.

“I’ll be sure to tell them. I suppose you have to get ready for bed now.” she sighed. “I’ll let you go. I love you, dear. Take care.”

“I love you too, Mum. I’ll call you tomorrow.” he promised before hanging up. He tossed his phone aside, just laying in his bed for a few minutes and wondering how his siblings were doing. He hoped one of his friends was keeping an eye on them in school. Finally, when he heard a voice yelling out in the hallway that it was lights out, he turned off his lights, got changed, and went to bed, unable to deny that he was nervous for the next day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Well, that’s that! November’s going to be a bit hectic because of NaNoWriMo, but hopefully in December updates will be more regular. Mycroft’s being a bit of an ass right now, but that’ll change soon enough. xD So, if you have the time, I’d greatly appreciate if you left a review saying what you thought of the chapter. :) Have a good day and/or night!


	3. In Which They Become Friends

Greg was startled out of his sleep by knocking at his door the next morning. He sat up with a start and stumbled out of bed, kicking the sheets off in the process. The clock on his bedside table read 7:45, which meant he still had plenty of time until breakfast at eight thirty. Greg didn’t have a clue why he was surprised when he saw Mycroft standing on the other side of the door.

“There better be a good reason why you’re wakin’ me up so early.” Greg said, his voice still raspy with sleep.

Mycroft raised an eyebrow as he looked Greg over. “You were still sleeping? At this hour? What time did you plan on waking up?”

“Eight. Woulda still had plenty of time to get ready. You were supposed to come by at a quarter past.” he answered. He didn’t know how Mycroft was fully articulate so early in the morning, let alone dressed in the full uniform.

“Perhaps if you wanted to look mediocre.” Mycroft said, his nose wrinkling up in distaste. “I came to check if you were awake yet, not pick you up. You’ll thank me later. Get dressed. I expect you to be ready in thirty minutes.” With that, he walked back over to his room.

Greg rolled his eyes. What type of man needed more than fifteen minutes to get ready in the morning? Especially when he didn’t even have to pick out his clothes. No point going back to sleep now, though. He pulled his uniform out of the closet, sighing in resignation as he pulled up the trousers. He made it up until the shirt and waistcoat before becoming hopelessly confused. His mother had tied his tie the day before, but now he couldn’t figure it out. After trying to figure it out for a few minutes, he finally gave up, deciding he could just tie it later. He left it hanging around his neck and grabbed his jacket, deciding he’d put it on later. Greg slipped his shoes on and went outside just two minutes late.

“You’re late.” Mycroft frowned, looking him over. “And you’re not even dressed. How did you plan on being ready in time if you’d woken up just fifteen minutes ago?”

“It wasn’t me! It was this horrible invention created by posh idiots to choke their friends to death!” Greg said, gesturing to his tie with the hand that wasn’t holding onto his jacket.

“You don’t know how to tie a tie? Really?” he asked, giving Greg the most judgmental look he’d ever seen in his life. “You must be some sort of caveman.”

Greg rolled his eyes. “You can insult me all you want later. Can you just help me out now? Please?”

Mycroft sighed, stepping closer to him and tying it for him in less than ten seconds with nimble fingers. He tugged on it after it been tied to tighten on it and stepped back to look at his work with an approving hum. “There. It’s not that hard. I’ll teach you this afternoon. Now, come. We’re going to be late.”

“Relax. We’ve still got…” He looked at his wrist watch. “Twelve more minutes.” He was surprised Mycroft hadn’t died of a heart attack by now. Greg would expect him to, at the very least, have an ulcer.

“Twelve minutes to be there. Not to leave.” Mycroft corrected, pulling Greg along by his arm. As they walked down the stairs he looked over his shoulder with a frown. “Put your jacket on. You’ll get in trouble for being out of uniform.”

“Will it get you to stop nagging me?” Greg teased, smirking.

“I’ll stop nagging you when you do things right, Gregory.” he snapped, scowling. Greg could practically feel him rolling his eyes as he continued walking ahead.

Greg laughed, happy to have pushed some of Mycroft’s buttons. He slipped his jacket on and chased after him, just barely missing the dorm building door slamming in his face. “There. It’s on. Happy now, My?”

The look of horror on Mycroft’s face at the nickname was enough to make however much nagging he’d receive worth it. “My name is Mycroft. Not My.” he said.

“And mine’s Greg. Not Gregory.” he said, smirking cheekily. Greg absolutely loved the way it was evident on Mycroft’s face that he was struggling for a good comeback.

Greg laughed, walking ahead towards where he remembered the dining hall to be. Mycroft skulked behind him, pouting rather adorably. He was still pouting when they sat down for breakfast and Greg piled eggs and potatoes onto his plate. He chuckled, leaning over and patting his shoulder.

“You look like a kicked puppy… My.” he said, grinning evilly. “Was it something I said? Or is it not me, it’s you?” Greg teased, holding back a laugh.

Mycroft glared halfheartedly at him. “Don’t call me that, Gregory. That’s no way of treating your superiors.” Greg could practically see a cold mask of officialness pass over Mycroft’s face and he couln’t help but frown in dissapointment. He’d thought maybe he was getting through to him just a bit.

“God, Mycroft, you’re giving me whiplash here.” Greg said, rolling his eyes. “You either really hate me for just existing or you sort of tolerate me. It’s like you’re flipflopping between them. So, which is it? And don’t spare my feeling’s, okay? I’m a big boy. I can take it.”

Mycroft raised an eyebrow. “I’ve no idea what you’re talking about.” he huffed, crossing his arms over his chest.

“You know damn well what I’m talking about.” he said, scoffing. For an Etonian, he sure was thick. “I get that you’re a prefect and you want to make your daddy proud or whatever, but could you not do that by pretending to like me? Because you’re pretty terrible at it.”

The other boy sighed. “Gregory, I-”

“Greg. If I’m calling you a stupid name like Mycroft, then you’re calling me Greg.” he said, huffing.

“My apologies. Greg, I assure you, you don’t want to be friends with me. I’ll show you around for a few days and then leave you be. You’ll thank me for it later. Associating yourself with me would be social suicide here.” Mycroft said simply, not seeming the least bit upset about it, though Greg had a feeling that was just years of practice at hiding it.

“I don’t care.” By now, it was more the principle of the thing than anything else. If he wanted to be Mycroft’s friend he damn well would be. “I think I’m old enough to be making my own decisions of who I want to hang out with or not, don’t you? Besides, according to you, you know all about me just from looking at me - I still think that’s creepy, by the way. Which means by now you probably know my family’s dirt poor. And if you didn’t, then surprise! That alone is enough of a social suicide.”

Mycroft remained quiet for a few minutes, looking down at his lap. In the short while of silence, Greg shoveled scrambled eggs into his mouth as intimidatingly as he could manage. Which wasn’t much, but he tried his hardest. When Mycroft looked back up at him, he had the smallest of smiles on his face.

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re horribly stubborn?” he asked.

“Oh, yeah. All the time. My mum hates it.” he said, laughing. He took this as a good sign. Maybe he’d finally made progress. “We’re always getting into rows over stupid things like what side of the plate to put the corn on because she’s just as stubborn as I am.”

“You’ve got to be joking.” Mycroft said, snorting and then looking appalled at himself that he would make such an undignified sound.

Greg nodded, laughing. “I wish I was! It’s stupid, I know. It’s what families for, I guess. Love and stupid rows. You should hear some of the fights my brothers and I get into. Though I guess it’s to be expected. He’s Barça. I’m Madrid.”

Mycrof’s brow furrowed. “What do cities in Spain have to do with anything?” he asked, looking so genuinely confused that Greg nearly aww’ed out loud at the adorableness.

“It’s football! They’re like rival teams. You really didn’t know?” Greg looked horrified as Mycroft shook his head. “Blasphemy! What sort of an English man doesn’t know about football? Sorry, mate, but I’ve know made it my life goal to educate you on the finer pleasures of life.”

“You call football the finer pleasures of life? Really?” Mycroft frowned. “God, you’re more uncultured than I thought you were.”

“Oh, so now you know about how cultured I am? You’ve just met me less than twelve hours ago.” Greg scoffed, rolling his eyes.

At this point, Mycroft smirked, his blue eyes twinkling in amusement. Greg sat back and listened to Mycroft explain for a few minutes Greg’s musical tastes and his hobbies. He tuned out most of the explanations, too busy gaping at Mycroft in awe to properly hear. Mycroft leaned back in his chair with a proud smirk when he finished.

“That was… oh my god. That was… Whoa.” Greg’s eyes widened and he started at Mycroft in disbelief. “How’d you do that? Not even my mum knows about my awkward boy band phase when I was twelve.”

“Boy band phase that you refuse to admit may still continue today, hidden underneath the ‘punk’.” Mycroft corrected, chuckling. “And I didn’t do much. I merely observed. Everyone sees but hardly anyone observes and retains information.”

“Well… Wow… That’s really cool. The coolest thing I can do is knot a chery stem with my tongue.” he said, shrugging. “But mind reading is way cooler.”

“You can knot a chery stem with your tongue but you can’t tie a tie? That’s pathetic.” Mycroft teased. “And it’s not mind reading. It’s observing.”

“Whatever you say, Mr. Mind Reader. I can’t be held liable for any trauma you experience when you’re looking through my head, okay?” he grinned.

“Very well. I won’t blame you for any trauma I get when I’m ‘reading your mind’.” Mycroft promised, rolling his eyes.

They spent the rest of breakfast like that. Playfully bantering back and forth. It was pretty amazing how much they learned about each other. Greg found out Mycroft played the piano, wanted to be a politician, excelled at Oratory, and had a younger brother. Most of what Greg told Mycroft he knew, but he did find out that Greg had been playing guitar since he was six and that he wanted a motorbike when he turned seventeen - though his family would probably never be able to afford it. Mycroft asked about his father a few times, but Greg kept changing the subject until Mycroft got the message. Greg briefly noticed that Mycroft wasn’t eating anything, but it was quickly forgotten in the midst of their conversation.

Close to nine, Mycroft checked his watch and started to stand up. “We should head to class or we’ll be late.” he warned.

Greg nodded, grabbing his bag and getting up. “What do we have first? Maths, right?”

“Yes. And then Chemistry.” Mycroft said, walking them over to the door and leading them outside. “The buildings are near each other. Which is good. We’re less likely to be late to Chemistry.”

“Ugh, my two favorite classes back to back.” he muttered sarcastically. “When’s music? Or History?”

“Last two periods.” he answered with an apologetic shrug. “We’ve got Chambers after Chemistry, though. So it’s not too bad.”

“That’s break, right? Thank, God. I would have probably died if we had something boring like Latin right after.” Greg said, sighing in relief.

Mycroft rolled his eyes, mumbling something under his breath about Greg being overdramatic as he pulled him along. Greg laughed, not minding one bit that he was being tugged along like a puppy on a leash. He was just glad that he had seemingly managed to get Mycroft to stop being so hostile against him. And if Greg noticed some of the other boys gave him strange looks for being openly friendly with the shool’s social pariah, he ignored it.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N- All right then! Lots of exciting things in this chapter :D So, we have Greg’s stubborness to thank for our wonderful Mystrade ship. xD Thank you so much for all the reviews and favorites/follows. I appreciate them all so much. I can’t even begin to thank you guys enough. Love you guys! Have a good day or night or whatever it is you’re having! <3


	4. In Which They Are Adorable

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N- I don’t know why I haven’t mentioned this before, and I’m sure it’s really obvious, but I’m American so I apologize for Americanisms

Chapter 4

Only two classes in, Greg found he quite enjoyed spending time with Mycroft. Whenever a teacher or another student talked to him, he became cold and distant, only focused on being as perfect as possible. When he was just talking to Greg it was different. He was still worried about being perfect, but he seemed… looser. Greg was absolutely fascinated about how he could learn so much and yet so little about one boy in just a few hours.

When break time came around, they both strolled back in the general direction of their dorms at an incredibly slow pace, not caring if they spent the entirety of their break on the walk to their next class. Mycroft talked about the weather, which Greg thought was incredibly cliche, but when he talked it was so articulate and smooth that Greg was sure he would have gladly spent hours listening to Mycroft read a dictionary.

“What do we have after this?” Greg asked once Mycroft had run out of ways to say that the sky looked beautiful that morning.

“Literature.” he answered. “Do you have your books for that?”

Greg shook his head. “Just my notebooks. But it’s the first day. No teacher in the existence of teachers has ever actually taught anything on the first day.”

“If you say so,” Mycroft said, rolling his eyes halfheartedly. “You’ll need them tomorrow, though. They’re in your dorm, yes?”

“Somewhere on the floor.” he confirmed, nodding. If he remembered correctly, they’d been kicked underneath the bed the night before. Or maybe that had been his Latin textbook. He wasn’t entirely sure.

“The floor? Dear God, Gregory, how do you keep track of things?” Mycroft asked, raising an eyebrow. 

“Simple. I don’t.” Greg rolled his eyes. “I just kind of pray and bullshit things as they come along. It’s not the best system, but it’s worked for me so far. And I’ve told you not to call me Gregory.”

Mycroft laughed, ignoring the last bit about not calling him Gregory, and spent the rest of their free time telling Greg about how much simpler things would be for him if he organized his belongings. Greg nodded, pretending to be listening, but really he was remembering the alphabetically organized books from the night before and wondering if there was anyway he’d be able to sneak into Mycroft’s room and scatter the books randomly across the room. He was sure that would drive Mycroft mad.

Just as Greg had predicted, they didn’t do much in Literature class. The teacher had them introduce themselves by saying their names and one of their hobbies (Greg had answered ‘Greg - not Gregory - Lestrade, football’ while Mycroft had said ‘Mycroft Holmes, reading’) before briefly going over the syllabus of the semester. It didn’t take long and they wound up having fifteen minutes of downtime before being let out to lunch. During that time, Greg and Mycroft went back to talking. It was amazing how they could say so much while saying so little at the same time. Greg didn’t mind, though. They’d known each other less than twelve hours. He wasn’t exactly eager to start sharing his life story, either.

They sat together at lunch again, falling into a comfortable silence. Greg was almost halfway through his lunch when he noticed Mycroft’s plate was still untouched. “Aren’t you gonna eat?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Hmm? Oh, yes. I got distracted.” he mumbled, hesitantly picking his fork up and starting to eat.

Greg shrugged it off, not thinking twice about it. Posh kid like Mycroft probably had a private chef or something at home and still wasn’t used to eating school food. They were quiet again after that, eating their lunches without another word. Greg was just glad to have company. Having to be all alone was what he’d been most afraid of about changing schools. He was happy the friendless period of switching schools hadn’t lasted too long.  

Mycroft had finished with his lunch and gotten rid of his plate before Greg. He hadn’t gotten a good luck at the plate, but he’d just assumed that he’d finished. Mycroft sat patiently and quietly as Greg finished eating, not saying a word. When he finished, he put his plates away and went back over to where they’d been sitting, picking his bag up from the ground to signal that he was finished.

Mycroft informed them that they had a fee period next, something which Greg was unbelievably grateful for. He didn’t mind going to classes, but he was still a teenage boy and when given the choice between sitting around doing nothing and taking a class, he would pick the former without a second thought. They could spend the free period just about anywhere on the campus, but Mycroft told him he usually spent it in the library or his dorm room. Greg would have much rather spend it in the dorms and he told Mycroft as much, so they made their way back there.

“Do you want to come in?” Greg offered as he unlocked the door to his dorm and stepped inside.

Mycroft seemed to think it over for a few moments, looking between Greg’s room and the door to his own before finally nodding. “Very well.” he said, stepping inside.

Greg closed the door behind Mycroft and pulled his guitar out of his closet. “You don’t mind if I practice a bit, do you?” he asked, sitting at the edge of his bed and working on retuning the strings.

Mycroft shook his head. “Of course not.” He was still awkwardly standing off to the corner, arms crossed behind his back.

“You can sit down, you know?” he pointed out, smiling slightly at how awkwardly adorable Mycroft looked. “There’s a chair over there. Or you can just sit on the bed next to me. Whatever you’d prefer.”

“Er… I’ll take the chair. Thank you, Gregory.” he said, nodding as he took a seat on the chair in front of his desk.

Greg rolled his eyes, absentmindedly playing a few simple riffs to warm up his fingers. “I keep telling you. Greg. Not Gregory. Or I’ll go back to calling you My.” he warned, grinning mischievously.

“Sorry. Greg.” he corrected himself, looking at the guitar with interest. “You’re good. I guess you weren’t lying when you said you’ve been playing for years.”

Greg laughed, shaking his head. “I wouldn’t lie about my precious baby.” he said, smirking as he stopped playing riffs long enough to stroke the guitar neck. “Any requests? I pride myself in my guitar skills. And my football skills, of course. Don’t have much aside from that.”

“Well, guitar and football are no small feat.” Mycroft said, shrugging. He thought the request question over a few moments. “I’m afraid I don’t listen to much modern music. Would anything  by the Beatles be all right?”

“More than all right.” Greg assured him, starting to play the opening chords of Eleanor Rigby. He hummed and tapped his foot along, taking great pleasure in Mycroft’s pleased smile as he played.

“Can you sing?” he asked.

As an answer, Greg sang along to the chorus, throwing in a rather unnecessary riff just for the hell of it. Later, if anyone asked him if he’d done it to show off to Mycroft, Greg would neither confirm nor deny. When he was done, he bowed playfully from his spot on the bed, grinning.

Mycroft laughed, clapping softly. “Wonderful. Do you play often?” he asked. “I’d imagine you do.”

Greg shrugged. “Often enough. I used to go out with my friends every once in a while and play in a band we pulled together. Music class will probably be the only time my music sees the light of day here.”

“You could join one of the performing bands. Or the choir. You’ve got a lovely voice.” he complimented, smiling at him.

“I’ll think about it.” Greg promised. “What was it you said you played? Wasn't it something really posh? Like cello. Or flute.” he teased.

Mycroft rolled his eyes and shook his head. “I play the piano. Which I suppose could be considered ‘posh’.”

“Piano's pretty posh as well.” Greg laughed. “You should learn something like drums or something. That’d be pretty kick arse.”

“Drums are so… loud, though.” Mycroft said, his noise scrunching up in distaste. “I’d much rather play something that at least sounds nice. Drums are just noise.”

“If you say so,” he shrugged. “Piano fits you, though. Very posh and elegant. Just like you when you’re in your ‘prefect mode’.”

Mycroft raised a questioning eyebrow. “My… prefect mode? Please do explain, Gregor- Greg.”

“I hate to be the one to break it to you, but you have an evil twin. His name’s Mycroft and he acts like he’s God’s gift to humanity. And he thinks he’s the bloody Queen of England.” he explained with a very serious look on his face.

Mycroft stifled a snort. “But that doesn’t make sense. I’m Mycroft. Perhaps you’ve got me and my supposed twin confused.”

Greg shook his head. “Nope. You’re My. The nice twin. Mycroft’s evil ways have rubbed off on you a bit and sometimes you act like him, but for the most part you’re a pretty cool guy.”

“You’re absurd.” Mycroft laughed, shaking his head. “I can assured you I don’t have a secret twin brother. He and I are one and the same.”

“Nah, he just brainwashed you to think that.” Greg insisted. “You’re two different boys. And you switch place throughout the day.”

Mycroft shook his head, chuckling under his breath as he decided to let it go. “Whatever you wish to believe, Greg. We’ve got Latin in twenty minutes. Do you know where your books are?” he asked.

“Uh…” Greg put his guitar aside on his bed and kneeled down by the side of his bed, leaning down to reach underneath it. He pulled out his textbook with a proud grin. “It’s right here! See? I know where everything is. It’s just organized in the Lestrade way.”

“Is the Lestrade way by any chance tossing things around at random and praying you’ll find them later?” Mycroft asked, smirking.

“Exactly!” Greg nodded. “You understood it immediately. I’m proud. I was afraid I’d have to go through the trouble of teaching you.” he said, grabbing his bag and taking out the morning’s books, switching them with the afternoon books.

“You’re absurd.” he said again, chuckling. “How you managed to get accepted is a mystery to me.” 

Greg shrugged. Honestly, it was a bit of a mystery to him as well. “I just looked really, really cute for my interview and they couldn’t possibly say no to my adorableness. They just couldn’t stand the fact of never seeing my face again. So they practically begged me to come.”

Mycroft laughed. “Whatever you say, Greg. Though I highly doubt you were accepted because of how you looked. Were you a good student back home?”

“Good enough.” he shrugged. “I guess the guitar and football didn’t hurt. Can’t imagine a school full of posh boys like you would have too many athletes in it.”

Mycroft rolled his eyes. “We’ve got plenty of athletes. They’re just all decently smart as well.”

Greg chuckled, nodding. He checking his watch and standing up, grabbing his bag from the floor. “Want to start getting to class? The bell’s going to ring in five minutes.”

Mycroft nodded, standing up as well. “Off to the wonderful world of Latin, I suppose.” he said sarcastically. 

“You? Not liking a class? That absolutely has to be against posh prefect rules.” Greg teased, starting to head out.

Mycroft rolled his eyes, following him out. The rest of the day passed by pretty quickly. Music was by far Greg’s favorite class. He loved for once sounding like he knew what he was talking about. Mycroft was a wonderful player and Greg loved hearing him play. In the afternoon when they would have usually been free to do homework or hanging out, they were taken back to the dining hall for presentations on the clubs and sport teams of that season, encouraging all of them to join an extracurricular. Greg had already made his mind up about playing football and Mycroft spent the entire time trying to convince Greg to join one of the music societies. By the time they were heading back to the dorms, Greg had decided he’d loved every second of his first day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N- All right, so this chapter is pretty much a filler to kind of set the ground for their characterizations and their friendship (*cough*soontoberomance*cough*). This story has been several months in the making, so I’ve already got some of their story arcs planned out for them, so I want to spend as little time in exposition as possible, as I know they can be a bit boring, especially since it’s canon characters we’re already pretty familiar with. Therefore, the next chapter will probably be the evening of Greg’s first day and after that I’ll probably have a time lapse of a few weeks. Unless anyone has any complaints about that? Tell me what you think! My main goal is to make my readers happy, so everything you guys tell me will be taken into account. (Which is why I don’t write chapters in advance. I like to know reactions or any ideas you guys might have and want to see in the story.)


	5. In Which They Kiss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: So I’ve gone ahead and done the timeskip a bit early to get to the Mystrade ;

Chapter 5

The first week at Eton passed by quickly. When Greg wasn’t studying, he was practicing guitar, and when he wasn’t doing either of those, he was spending time with Mycroft. He had still been too intimidated by the other boys to talk to them, so Mycroft was still his only friend. He had hoped that by now he would have gotten used to Eton, but it was still all unbelievably overwhelming. The campus was easily double the size of his neighborhood and all the boys had an elitist air to him. He mostly avoided everyone aside from Mycroft, but today he had his first football practice and he doubted he’d be able to avoid socializing today.

He headed to the field as soon as his last class was over. He stopped in one of the bathrooms along the way to change into an old t-shirt, his football shorts, and his cleats. Greg got to the football field about ten minutes later. He was stretching in a corner when he saw a few boys around his age walking over.

“Hey, Scholarship Boy!” one of them called out, stopping in front of him and crouching down in front of him. “Didn’t know you played.”

Greg scowled. “Don’t call me that. My name’s Greg. And yes. I do play.”

“You any good?” another asked, plopping down on the ground next to him. They all had friendly smiles on their faces, but Greg could feel the way they were treating him. Like an inferior.

“Plenty good if I do say so myself.” Greg said, sitting up a bit straighter and trying to make it clear that he wasn’t going to be pushed around. “Guess you’ll see for yourself in a bit, won’t you?”

“Well, I’m Elliot, Scholarship Boy. That’s Zachary and that’s Noah.” Elliot, the boy crouching in front of him said, pointing to the two boys on either side of him. He brushed a few strands of blond hair out of his forehead and Greg was mildly impressed at how he managed to look stuck up while doing such a simple action.

The boy to his right, Zachary, spoke up before Greg could complain about the nickname again. “You hang out with that Holmes boy a lot. Did’ya lose a bet or something?”

“Nah, his Daddy probably paid Scholarship Boy off so little Mikey would have a friend.” Noah said, laughing obnoxiously.

Greg glared at the three of them. “It’s not like that. He’s nice. Much nicer than you three gits. Would pick him over you three any day.”

Elliot’s nose scrunched up in distaste. “You’re new, Scholarship Boy. I’ll forgive you for not knowing too much. But you’d have to be an idiot to actually like Holmes. He’ll probably try to make a move on you or something. He’s a total queer. I mean, have you seen the way he dresses?”

“...it’s a uniform…” Greg said, raising an eyebrow as he tried to fully comprehend the stupidity of it all. “We’re all wearing the exact same thing.”

“Yeah, but he wears it different. And he walks like a poof, as well. Always swaying his hips.” Noah snorted, imitating the best he could from where he was seated.

“Says the boy with perfectly plucked eyebrows.” Greg pointed out, rolling his eyes.

The coach called them and the other boys over before any of the three had a chance to say something back. They did glare at him as they gathered around their coach to listen to his instructions. He also noticed Elliot and his two lackeys mumbling things to the other boys, more than likely some nasty lie he’d made up around Greg. He ignored it, along with the odd looks some of the boys were giving him. 

He didn’t have to ignore it long. Forty or so minutes in, the coach divided them into two and had them play a short game. Only five minutes into the game, Greg had stolen the ball from the team’s star player, outran the other players as he dribbled it down the field, dodged the defense, and sent it flying past the goalie. That more than made up for whatever Elliot had been telling them and now they were all treating him like some god. Greg couldn’t help but find it amusing how easily he’d earned their respect. And just the slightest bit terrifying how quickly they’d switched loyalties.

Practice was over before he knew it and soon enough he was drenched in sweat, coated in mud, and he was making his way back to his dorm. A few of the other boys patted him on the back, telling him he’d done a good job. Greg thanked them all politely, but didn’t stop long enough to hold up a conversation. Right now he just wanted to shower.

He had missed the familiar ache of his muscles after a football practice. It was a nice sort of ache. Greg loved it, even if it made showering a tad more difficult. He was out of the shower almost as quickly as he had gone in, satisfied that he’d gotten all the mud off. He returned to his room, wrapped in his towel. The last thing he expected to see when he opened the door was Mycroft sitting at the edge of his bed, reading a book that was perched in his lap.

“Sure, let yourself in, My.” Greg mumbled, rolling his eyes. “How’d you get the key, anyways?” he asked, going over to his wardrobe to pull out clothes.

Mycroft looked up, mouth open and ready to answer, but faltered as he saw what Greg was wearing. “Uh… I didn’t know you were in the shower.” he said, swallowing thickly.

Greg looked over his shoulder, smirking. “Yes, it’s what people tend to do after getting back from a sports practice. We don’t really come out of those things smelling like roses, you know? You didn’t answer my question, by the way. Did I leave my door unlocked or something?”

Mycroft shook his head. “I’m prefect. I have a copy of everyone’s keys.”

“Ah. I’ll remember not to sleep naked, then.” Greg assured him as he laid the clothes out on his bed. “Was there something you needed?”

“Just came by to say hello.” Mycroft said, standing up stiffly. “I’ll leave and return in a few minutes, if you’d like.”

“You don’t have to leave. You can just turn the other way or something.” he shrugged, finding it cute how flustered Mycroft was. Greg couldn’t help but wonder if there was some truth to the nasty things Elliot had been telling him earlier.

Mycroft nodded stiffly, turning to face the wall as Greg got dressed. Greg didn’t tell him once he’d finished getting dressed, only plopped himself down next to him, causing Mycroft to jump nearly a foot in the air from the surprise. He couldn’t help but laugh.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. Although I think coming into someone’s room unannounced is far worse than sitting down.” Greg teased, grinning.

“My apologies.” he said, clearing his throat. “It won’t happen again. I promise.”  

“Don’t worry about it.” Greg assured him, laughing it off. He spotted his wallet on the floor and grinned. He’d been wondering where it’d gone. “There it is!” he exclaimed, leaning down to pick it up and opening it to make sure everything was still there.

Mycroft looked over his shoulder at the picture on the very front of it. “Is that your family?” he asked curiously.

Greg smiled, nodding. He took it out of the plastic covering and passed it over to Mycroft so he could take a better look. “Yeah, it is. That’s my mother, Marie. That’s my youngest sibling and only sister, Lily. She’s six. That’s the twins, Jack and Matthew. They’re ten and a huge pain in the arse. But they’re very lovable. And that’s Ryan, he’s fourteen.” He pointed to each of them as he mentioned them. “We’re a rather large family.”

“I can see that.” Mycroft agreed. “Ryan and you took after your father, right? He looks just like a smaller you. And the other three are absolutely adorable.” he said, smiling as he pulled his own wallet out and showed Greg a picture of himself and Sherlock. “I’ve only got one brother back home. Sherlock. He’s seven.”

Greg grinned as he looked at the picture. “He’s absolutely adorable! Looks like a bit of a troublemaker,” he chuckled.

Mycroft made a face, nodding. “He is. I’m always having to get him out of trouble. It can get a bit annoying, but I suppose that’s what little brothers are there for.”

“All little brothers are annoying. It’s in the rule book.” Greg said, shrugging. He smiled in Mycroft’s direction, finding the face he was making to be absolutely adorable. “Us older brothers always get used to it, though, don’t we?”

“We have to. Or else we’d all be driven mad.” Mycroft deadpanned. “Tell me, have any of your brothers ever decided it would be fun to have an experiment and nearly burn the house down in the process? Repeatedly?”

“Er… Can’t say any of them have.” Greg laughed, shaking his head. “Sounds like Sherlock keeps you busy when you’re at home.”

Mycroft nodded. “Like you wouldn’t believe.”

“At least he’s cute.” Greg pointed out, grinning. “The twins are always getting into trouble as well. Though, thankfully, they’ve never nearly burned the house down.”

“Consider yourself lucky.” Mycroft mumbled under his breath, moving to put the picture and his wallet away again.

Greg smiled, thinking to himself that the little pout on Mycroft’s lips at the moment was probably the cutest thing he had ever seen. His mind strayed back to what those boys at football had been telling him. He wondered if it was true. Of course, if it was, it wouldn’t be for the reasons, they’d said, but it could very well have been true. He spent half a second debating it before making what was quite possibly the most impulsive decision he’d ever made in his life.

He wasn’t all too sure how he’d gathered the guts to do it, but one second he was sitting there, only half listening to Mycroft talk, and the next he was leaning forward and pressing his lips against Mycroft’s. For a few moments, Greg felt as though his heart was soaring. Mycroft was kissing him back, his arms wrapping around Greg’s shoulders.

And then, just as quickly as it had begun, it ended. Mycroft stilled against him and pulled back, shaking his head. Greg’s heart dropped. He had been so sure he wouldn’t get rejected and yet here he was, with Mycroft pushing him away and standing up on shaky legs.

“I-I’m sorry, Gregory. I can’t do this.” Mycroft mumbled, still shaking his head as he stumbled back. “I… Sorry.”

Greg looked devastated as he stood up, trying to follow Mycroft out. “My, I’m sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking. I swear, it won’t happen again.” he promised.

Mycroft still refused to listen, practically running to his room and slamming the door shut before Greg had a chance to go after him. With a heavy heart, Greg dragged his feet back to his own room, closing the door behind him. He sat on the edge of his bed, resting his head on his hands as he willed back tears. Stupid. That had been stupid. What had he been thinking?

Leave it to him to think it was a good idea to try to make out with the prefect a week into class. How stupid could he be? He sighed wearily, throwing himself back on the bed in frustration. He laid quietly, hating himself for what he’d done. Finally, after what must have been a good hour of brooding, Greg stood up and weakly changed into his sleeping pants. He’d really gone and messed it up this time.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: So sorry this took me so long! Basketball season started so I’ve been spending a good chunk of my time in practice. It’s Thanksgiving Break, so hopefully I’ll be able to get ahead in my writing this week. Thank you for all the support :) Have a good rest of the weekend, dear readers!


	6. In Which They Go Back to the Snogging

Chapter 6

Greg barely slept that night. He was tossing and turning, wishing he’d never kissed Mycroft. It had been a stupid move. He wasn’t even sure what he’d been thinking when he’d done it. Nothing, probably. He wished nothing more than to take it back. He’d only been in school for a week and somehow he’d already managed to muck it all up.

The next morning, he got up dreading breakfast. Mycroft would probably be there. Besides, he always sat with Mycroft. He’d have find some other boys to sit with. Greg figured some of the boys from football wouldn’t mind him sitting with them, though he hoped Elliot and his two friends wouldn’t be there. If they started annoying him again this morning, he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to resist the urge to punch them in the face, which he was sure would get him in loads of trouble.

After a few minutes of just laying down and trying to come up with a good excuse as to why he couldn’t attend classes that morning, Greg finally forced himself up and reluctantly dressed himself in his uniform. He took the long way around to the dining hall, dragging his feet all the way. Thankfully, when he walked inside, Mycroft was nowhere to be seen. He stood awkwardly for a few moments, trying to decide where he should sit before finally spotting a table with a boy who had been nice enough to him the day before at football and the classes they shared.

He made his way over and pointed to an empty chair at the table. “Mind if I sit here?” Greg asked, smiling politely at the boy.

“Not at all.” he assured him, pulling the chair back so he could sit. “You’re… Greg, right?”

Greg nodded, sitting down and placing his school bag at his feet. “Yup. Greg Lestrade. Sorry, I’m afraid I don’t remember yours.”

“I’m Thomas.” he answered, holding his hand out. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Greg. You were quite good at practice yesterday.”

“Oh, yeah! Thomas the goalie, right?” He vaguely remembered their coach yelling out instructions at him. “You were pretty brilliant as well. I was quite happy to be on your team. Would have been hard to get the ball past you.”

Thomas chuckled as he took a bite of toast. “You don’t have to exaggerate. I’m sure you would have gotten it past me without breaking a sweat. Have you been playing for a long time?”

“You know how most fathers want their sons to be doctors or lawyers or whatever?” Greg asked, grinning. “Well, mine wanted me to be a professional football player. Had me enrolled in football classes the month after I learned how to walk. And he spent all his free time playing with me at the park.”

The other boy laughed. “That’s pretty brilliant, actually. Mine wants me to be a lawyer. Which is terribly boring. I would have much rather had a dad that wanted me to play football. Say, what teams do you root for, Greg?”

They talked about football and their favorite teams for the rest of breakfast. A few minutes in, two other boys from football - Quinn and Ross - sat at the table with them and easily slipped into the conversation. Greg kept an eye on the door the entire time, hoping to see Mycroft come in at some point. When he didn’t, Greg just decided that Mycroft was probably trying to avoid him. He couldn’t blame him. When the time for breakfast ended and they had to make their way over to first period, they bid each other goodbye until History which they shared and went on their ways.

Greg’s first class of the day was Chemistry, which he shared with Mycroft. He walked over to their classroom as slow as he possibly could. He wasn’t exactly looking forward to having Mycroft snap at him or tell him how disgusting he thought he was. Still, he couldn’t skip the class, even if a part of him sort of wanted to. He didn’t want to risk missing any information and having his grades slip. He wasn’t naturally smart like Mycroft. He’d only got to where he was today through hours of hard work.

Greg slunk into class just before the bell rang and took his assigned seat, which unfortunately was just next to Mycroft. “Listen, Mycroft, about last night…” he started, taking advantage of the fact that their professor was late.

“I don’t want to talk about it, Gregory.” Mycroft mumbled, furiously taking notes of what was already on the board and avoiding Greg’s gaze.

He sighed, nodding. “Right. Well… For what it’s worth, I’m sorry.” he murmured, frowning as he pulled his own books out and waited for the teacher to get there.

The teacher arrived only moments later and after that Greg was far too focused on taking notes to worry too much about Mycroft. The awkward air between them was impossible to completely ignore, though. When the bell rang for the next class, Mycroft had picked his things up and left before Greg had a chance to try to talk to him again. Greg sighed dejectedly and went off to his second period class.

Mycroft managed to avoid him all morning and was once again nowhere to be found at lunch time. Greg ate lunch with the same boys from breakfast before heading back to the dorms, where he planned on spending his free period. Just as he was unlocking his bedroom door, he saw Mycroft coming out of his. The second Mycroft saw him, he tried to go back inside, but Greg ran over and jammed his foot in the door so he couldn’t slam the door in his face.

“Will you at least give me a chance to apologize?” Greg pleaded, frowning deeply. He understood Mycroft being upset, but he didn’t think he’d be this mad.

“There’s nothing to apologize for, Gregory.” Mycroft said stiffly, tugging at his door to try to get Greg’s foot out of the way. “Now may I please close my door?”

“I’ve told ya. It’s Greg. Not Gregory. And if there was nothing to apologize for, you wouldn’t be this upset at me. I don’t know what I was thinking, My. It won’t happen again. I promise.” Greg sighed, shaking his head.

Mycroft bit his lip, looking over Greg’s shoulder to make sure the hallway was empty before pulling him into the room and closing the door shut behind him. “You can’t do that ever again, Gregory. You realize my father has eyes and ears all over the school, don’t you?”

“It’s not going to happen again. And… what does your father have to do with anything?” he asked, face scrunching up in confusion.

“If my father ever found out about… this he would kill me.” Mycroft mumbled, sitting at the edge of his bed with a weary sigh. “I can’t risk him hearing about this from some student or teacher or something.”

“Wait… So the reason you spent all morning avoiding me wasn’t because you think I’m some disgusting poof or something? It’s because of your father? Seriously?” Greg asked, gaping at him.

Mycroft looked up at him like he was an idiot. “Obviously. I kissed you back, didn’t I?” he pointed out, raising an eyebrow.

“I thought you hated me!” he exclaimed, shaking his head and dropping onto the seat by Mycroft’s desk. “I’m such an idiot.”

“You really are.” Mycroft agreed, though there was the smallest hint of a smile on his face. “I find you very… attractive. I wouldn’t have kissed you back if I hadn’t.”

“So… does this mean I can kiss you so long as no one can see?” Greg asked, cheering up.

“One track mind, much?” Mycroft laughed, rolling his eyes. His cheeks were tinged with pink. “And… yes… I suppose you could kiss me if you wanted to.”

“Holy shit.” Greg breathed out, grinning. “That’s awesome!”

“I mentioned you’re an idiot, right?” Mycroft asked, rolling his eyes again. “Out of everything, you’re going to worry about whether or not you can kiss me.”

“Right. Um… sorry about the fact that your dad is an arse?” Greg offered, unsure what to say. His father had been dead when girls still had cooties and though he’d never come out to his mother, he was more than sure that she would be more than fine with it.

Mycroft sighed, shaking his head. “I’d rather not talk about it.”

Greg nodded in understanding. “That’s fine. You don’t have to. So… uh… what does this make us?”

“...I don’t know. It doesn’t really matter as long as no one finds out.” Mycroft said, shrugging weakly.

“Well… Why don’t we let things run their course, yeah? Don’t worry, though. No one will find out.” Greg assured him. “Now… how about we try that kissing thing again?” he said, smirking.

Mycroft rolled his eyes. “You’re an idiot.” he muttered.

They wound up trying the ‘kissing thing’ again for quite a while. Greg had what he swore was the best twenty minutes of snogging in his life and Mycroft had, if he didn’t count last night, the first twenty minutes of snogging in his life. Even after they pulled, they stayed with their foreheads pressed against each other as they caught their breath. They shared a few more soft, lazy kisses before fully pulling back.

“That was great.” Greg said with a breathless grin. “Sorry, is it tacky to say that? You know what, I don’t care. It’s the truth.”

Mycroft chuckled, rolling his eyes. “Yes, I do believe it’s a tad bit tacky. But I must say I agree. I didn’t ask yesterday, how was football? Did you play well?”

“Course I did!” he scoffed. “I always do! I’m Greg Lestrade. My name is practically synonymous with football.”

“Oh yes, and humility as well.” Mycroft rolled his eyes.

“I’m only cocky when it’s true.” Greg laughed, smirking proudly. “Now… can we get back to snogging?” 

“Have I mentioned you’re an idiot?” 

At this point, Greg didn’t particularly care what Mycroft called him. So long as he got to kiss him again. And that’s how they spent the rest of their free period. Snogging on Mycroft’s bed with the topic of Mycroft’s father far from their minds when, really, it should have been the first of their worries.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Ah damn it guys I’m sorry I’ve been so slow lately. My baby brother’s birthday is this Friday and things have been crazy with trying to organize everything. Hopefully some of you are older siblings and will understand how important it is to me that everythign is as perfect as possible for him :P Again, really sorry about taking so long. But yeah, Greg is a bit of an idiot. Too busy focusing on how hot he thinks Mycroft is to notice how little Myc eats or to wonder how much of a douche Siger is. Soooo you can definitely expect things to blow up in his face pretty soon.


	7. In Which Mycroft Doesn't Eat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: All right guys so two warnings for this one. One more serious than the other. The not so serious one is an apology for the horrible grammar in the texting bit. Teenagers aren't exactly known for their wonderful English while texting. And the second is that there is talking and description of eating disorders. So if that's triggering for you, I suggest treading with caution.

Things went smoothly for a few weeks. Greg and Mycroft spent time together during the day as usual, though Greg now spent some of his time with football mates as well, but the shared kisses and caresses were left for their free time in the evening, when they were safely hidden away in one of their rooms. Greg didn't think much of it. He just assumed Mycroft was awfully worried about staying in the closet. He understood. He hadn't told his mum yet, either.

With what had happened with Mycroft, Greg was sure he would have been enjoying his time in Eton regardless of anything else that happened. Thankfully, though, Mycroft wasn't the only thing he was enjoying. True, a good portion of the boys he was attending with were snobs, but the boys from his football team he had befriended weren't so bad. There were times when they'd start conversations about their vacations over summer break - all to ridiculously expensive places like New York or Rome - or about their family's many properties or their yachts or something, but it was less than some of the other boys at school. There were some classmates who Greg had only ever seen talking about their luxuries and riches. Whenever he was near a conversation like that, Greg found it was best to shut his mouth and divert his attention elsewhere.

The hardest part of adjusting to his new school life was how much harder the classes were. Even if he'd often deny it or pretend otherwise, Greg was an excellent student. However, it wasn't natural genius like Mycroft's that kept his grades above average. It was much of his time dedicated to hard work and studying. Here at Eton, it became even harder to keep his grades up to par. What before would have taken an hour of studying back home, was easily two here. Still, he managed somehow. It was worth it to see his mother proud of him. That was the only reason he worked so hard. Ever since his father had died, he'd become determined to do as well as he possibly could be. There was nothing Greg wanted more than to make his mother proud.

He spent his first few weeks too focused on schoolwork, music, and football to worry about much else. Once he'd gotten used to larger workload, he started shifting some of his focus to Mycroft and noticing all the little things. Like how he tended to tug at his ear when he was deep in thought. Or how often in class, Mycroft would bite his lip to keep back comments about how idiotic he thought the teachers were. It wasn't until halfway through his second month that he noticed just how little Mycroft ate. Only about once every few days.

Greg had been sitting at lunch when he connected the dots. Mycroft wasn't there, so he'd sat with his football mates. At first, he hadn't thought much of Mycroft not being there. The other boy had a habit of skipping lunch. In fact, he skipped lots of meals. And even when he was there with him, Mycroft rarely ever ate and when he did it was never much, Greg realized with a feeling of dread growing in the pit of his stomach.

"Say… You know Mycroft, right, Ross?" Greg asked, looking over at the blond teenager who played forward with him on the team.

Ross nodded. "The Holmes bloke, right? The one you hang out with sometimes? I don't know him personally, but I've shared a dorm building with him since our first year."

"He doesn't come to meals much, does he?" he mentioned, trying to be as casual as possible.

"Now that you mention it…" Thomas shrugged. "He used to come just like all the rest of up until this year. And… he did look like he lost a lot of weight over the summer."

"Huh…" Greg nodded, frowning. He was really hoping his suspicions were wrong.

"He's got a bit of a temper on him, though." Ross warned. "I don't suggest you go ask him too many personal questions. Might snap at you. And Holmes is scary when he's angry."

"He's not above using his family's power to get back at people." Quinn added, nodding in agreement with what Ross had said.

Greg doubted Mycroft would really do anything very horrible to him, but he nodded anyways. "I'll keep that in mind." he said.

The conversation shifted to their History test the next week and that was that. But Greg couldn't stop thinking about Mycroft. It could very well be nothing. Perhaps Mycroft had taken to eating his meals with his father in the headmaster's office. Perhaps he just ate in his room or somewhere else on campus. Either way, Greg really should have noticed something sooner and he felt horrible for not having done so. He went about his afternoon classes and was distracted the entire time. He didn't mention anything to Mycroft, though. In the middle of class was hardly an appropriate time.

Of all the days that he could have noticed, that Thursday was possibly the worst. He couldn't start a conversation like that in class and after they got out of their last afternoon class, he had football practice all the way up until dinner. It was one of the worst practices he'd had so far, as his mind was elsewhere the entire time. He missed a few passes and was nowhere near as aggressive in his navigating the ball. Halfway through the practice, he had a bit of a spat with Elliot who was very loudly wondering if Mycroft's queerness had rubbed off on Greg and that's why he wasn't playing as well. Their coach broke it up quickly, but not before Greg managed to get a punch or two in. Nobody made any comments after that.

Mycroft wasn't in dinner either and Greg made his way through his dinner as quickly as he could so he could get back to the dorms. Sure enough, Mycroft was in his room and let Greg in just a moment after he'd knocked. Greg sat at the edge of Mycroft's bed and tried to act as normal as possible.

"You weren't dinner today. Or lunch." Greg noted, trying to sound casual.

"Hmm? Oh, yes." Mycroft nodded stiffly. "I was… busy. Finishing up work." he explained. It was an obvious lie.

"You must be busy an awful lot." Greg said, frowning as he looked over at Mycroft. "You're not at meals very often."

Mycroft stiffened. "I don't get hungry often." he mumbled, standing up from his bed and moving over to his desk to sift through papers and books nervously.

"Not often? You only eat every other day!" Greg said. His frown deepened. Greg may be oblivious at times, but he wasn't an idiot, and he certainly knew the red flags for an eating disorder when he saw them.

"And that's fine." Mycroft snapped, glaring at Greg over his shoulder. "Was there anything else you wanted or did you just come to pester me?"

"My…" Greg sighed, standing up and moving over to the other boy, wrapping his arms around him. "I'm just worried. That's all. It can't possibly be healthy to eat so little."

"I'm fine." he muttered, shoving Greg away gently. Mycroft went to his door and held it open for him. "You should go now, Gregory."

Greg winced slightly. The name 'Gregory' sounded very harsh coming from Mycroft's lips. "Sorry…" he mumbled, walking out of the room dejectedly. "I'll see you tomorrow?"

"I suppose," was the last thing Mycroft mumbled weakly before closing the door in Greg's face.

Greg shuffled back to his room, throwing himself on his bed with a sigh. He guessed this meant his suspicions had been right, though he wished more than anything they hadn't. If only Mycroft hadn't been so upset. Maybe then they could have talked instead of Mycroft kicking him out of the room. Maybe he should have approached him differently? Or not been as direct in his questions? Too late now, he supposed.

There was no point in sulking the rest of the night and Greg forced himself out of bed and over to his desk. He pulled out a few of his textbooks and spent the next few hours studying and getting his homework done, though Mycroft was on the back of his mind the entire time. Close to ten, he put the last of his books away, satisfied with the work he'd done on his assignments and with the amount of studying he'd gotten done. He should have gotten his guitar out and practiced a bit, but he knew it was the type of night where he wouldn't get anything right, either way. He just needed to vent for a while right now.

Greg grabbed his phone from where he'd left it on the bed, debating for a few moments whether he should talk to his mother or vent to his best friend Anna for a while. He decided to start with the latter and call his mother later if he still had time. It was better if he just got this out of system first. He wouldn't want to accidentally come out to his mother because he started talking about Mycroft unintentionally.

Anna and he had been best friends since they'd been in diapers. They'd grown ridiculously attached to each other over the last sixteen years and it had been leaving each other that had bothered them the most about starting at Eton. Back home, people had had a bad habit of assuming they were dating, which they both found absolutely hilarious seeing as Anna liked  girls and Greg liked boys, something about each other only they knew. If there was anything he could go to about this, it was Anna.

_hey, you there? -GL_

_duh! - AJ_

_wats up, bitch? meet any cute princes or somethin? - AJ_

_Something like that. I need ur advice about something. About a boy. - GL_

_oooooooooooooooh! - AJ_

_how have I not heard about this b4? - AJ_

_tell me everything. is he cute? is he nice? does he play footie with u? - AJ_

_...is he rich? omg he has to be if he's at that overly posh school with you. - AJ_

_You cant see it, but Im rolling my eyes at u. Yes hes cute. Yes hes nice. He's about as far from a football player as u can get and his father's the headmaster. He probs has more money than he knows what to do with. - GL_

_Thats not what Im txting about though. I think he has a bit of a… eating problem. - GL_

_the guy is filthy rich. he can hav an xtra donut if he wants 2. - AJ_

_Other way around. - GL_

_Oh. - AJ_

_Yeah… I feel like abit of an idiot 4 not seeing anythin b4. :/ - GL_

_u txt like a teenage girl. i actually am 1. whats ur excuse? :P - AJ_

_sorry, sorry, wrong time. um… did u talk to him? - AJ_

_Obviously. He was upset. - GL_

_course he was. thats how these things go. Uh… when do u next see him? - AJ_

_when u do, try to talk to him again. be gentle. and be ready to drop it when he gets agitated. but bring it up again later. be persistent. he probably doesnt wanna talk about it. uve just gotta wait til he opens up. - AJ_

_Yeah… I guess I'll do that. Thx Anna. Love you! - GL_

_Love you too, bitch. 3 - AJ_

Greg sighed, closing the text window and dialing his mother's phone number. It rang a few times before his mother picked up on the other end.

"Greg!" she exclaimed. Greg could practiclly hear the grin on her face and, unfortunately, the tiredness in her voice.

"Mum! I miss ya. How's everything back home?" he asked. "Everyone behaving all right? The twins aren't giving you too hard a time, right?" He knew he probably should have waited before asking so many questions, but he couldn't help himself. He was missing his family more than he'd expected to.

His mother laughed. "Yes, dear, everything's fine. Jack and Matthew are… well, they're Jack and Matthew. Everything's the same as always, just missing one of my ducklings, is all. And your friends are missing one of their partners in crime."

"Mum! Don't call me a duckling." Greg whined halfheartedly, though he didn't mind at all. He thought it was sweet. "Before you ask, things are doing fine here at school." He didn't go into detail about Mycroft. There was no point worryying his mother about anything. Besides, he hadn't even told her about Mycroft. "My grades are… fine."

"Just fine?" she asked. "I suppose fine is better than bad. You're working hard, right? Studying everyday?"

Greg nodded. "Yes. Studying and playing football and going over my music everyday, Mum." he assured her. "Courses are more than just a tad bit harder here at Eton. That's all. My grades will get better, I promise."

"Just as long as you're trying your hardest, I'll be proud of you. You know that, dear." she said. "Now go spend time with your friends. I'm sure you don't have as much free time as you used to. You should spent it having fun. I love you, Greg."

"I love you, too, Mum." Greg said, smiling. They bid each other goodbye and Greg hung up the phone. There was only about half an hour before lights out and he doubted he would be able to socialize much with the sour mood he was in. He absent mindedly texted a few friends from home for a while until his eyes grew tired enough for him to change into his night clothes, turn off the lights, and call it a day. Tomorrow, he promised himself, he would try to talk to Mycroft again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Right. So. Again, sorry that I've been so slow with updates recently. Like I said, basketball season started. My first game is tomorrow so we've had practices every day. Which is tiring and time consuming, but I love the sport so I can't really complain. I hope this chapter was satisfacotry and I hope that I'll manage to actually fall into a schedule soon. Thanks for reading/reviewing! :)


	8. In Which Siger Talks to Greg

 

 

Greg woke up with a feeling of dread. He didn't want to talk to Mycroft. He knew he had to, but he didn't particularly want to. He knew that was selfish of him, but Greg was just a teenager. Teenagers weren't meant to deal with matters as big as these. Most of them went through them, yes, but there was a reason adults were always the ones to make things better and not the teenagers themselves.

Greg knew that he couldn't just let it happen. That would be wrong. But a part of him was afraid as to how Mycroft would react. Last night, he'd gotten kicked out of the room. Obviously, Mycroft didn't much like talking about it, but this wasn't really something they could just ignore. It wouldn't end well. Greg couldn't see this ending well no matter what happened. If Mycroft wound up hating him and deciding he never wanted to see him again, Greg still had a few friends from football. From what he'd seen, Mycroft had no one. He couldn't stand the thought of Mycroft being left alone if things ended wary.

It was a bit odd. Greg wasn't really the type to care much for others. He deeply loved his family and the one or two friends he was close enough to consider family. For those people, he would gladly give his life. But other than them, he was mostly indifferent. He was friendly to people and would offer help whenever possible, but they never took priority over himself. And yet here he was, worrying more about Mycroft and whether or not he'd have someone than himself. For a brief second, he couldn't help but wonder if this is what it felt like to be in love. He didn't ponder on it for long. It was a strange thought. One he didn't particularly want to spend too long thinking about.

It wound up taking him nearly half an hour to gather up the nerves to go to Mycroft's room. He took as long as he possibly could to get ready, using it as an excuse to delay heading to Mycroft's room. There was only so long he could delay it, though, and far too soon he was standing in front of the door, awkwardly waiting for the other boy to answer.

Mycroft answered after a minute or so, not looking very pleased to see him. "Was there something you wanted, Gregory?" he asked.

"You know why I'm here, My." Greg said, sighing. He could already tell this would be immensely uncomfortable for both of them. "Can I come in? Please?"

For a moment, it looked as though Mycroft was going to say no. But then he sighed in defeat and nodded, motioning for Greg to step inside. "Fine. Make it quick,"

"Look… I know you probably think I'm really stupid, but I just worry, okay? And I feel a bit useless knowing i've been here for weeks and I didn't notice anything. Nor did you even try to talk to me." Greg sighed, frowning.

Mycroft sat at the edge of his bed wearily. "I don't like talking to people about it. Don't take it personally." he mumbled, staring down at his feet.

"Yeah, well, I'm not just any person, now am I?" Greg pointed out. He kneeled down in front of Mycroft, gently taking his hands into his. "You can talk to me 'bout anything. I just don't want to see you hurting."

"It doesn't matter anyway. It's stupid." Mycroft insisted, though he didn't try to take his hands away, which Greg took as a good sign.

He shook his head. "It's not stupid if it's bothering you. What's wrong, My? D'ya, like… not feel good enough?" Greg felt like slapping himself at that point. He really was rubbish at trying to talk to people about problems.

"I… I don't want to talk about it, Gregory." Mycroft said, standing up abruptly and grabbing his school bag. "We should head down to breakfast."

Greg nodded, not wanting the push the topic too badly. The last thing he wanted was for Mycroft to completely shut down on him. "All right… But I'm here if you want to talk about it, okay?"

"I know, Gregory." Mycroft said softly, "Let's just… let's just go." He headed out the door, not stopping to check if Greg was following him.

Greg followed behind him, his fists clenching tightly around the straps of his bag out of nerves. It hadn't gone badly, per se, but he felt a bit as though Mycroft didn't trust him. He could understand why. He was just some random boy who he'd known for a few weeks, but still, he had thought Mycroft had just a bit more trust in him. As hard as he tried not to take it personally, it still stung.

They got to the dining hall and took their seats in a corner of the room as usual. Greg didn't comment as Mycroft grabbed some food for himself, not wanting to make him more uncomfortable than necessary. It wasn't much. Just a piece of toast and some beans, but it was certainly better than nothing at all. Greg was just glad Mycroft hadn't completely blown him off when he'd shown up at his room that morning. Baby steps, he reminded himself. They'd make progress through baby steps.

They ate a bit silently for a few minutes. Mycroft ate a bit awkwardly, doing more poking at his food than anything else. Greg was just glad he was eating at all. In the silence, Greg shifted around uncomfortably. He hated silence. He could deal with is every once in a while, but he was the type of person who preferred a constant chatter.

"So… Did you, uh, do the Bio homework?" Greg asked pathetically. It wasn't the greatest conversation starter, but it was better than nothing.

Mycroft nodded. "Of course. Did you?"

"I tried." he answered, shrugging. "I don't think I did it right, though. It was a bit complicated. Didn't understand the last lesson at all."

"I'm sure it's fine, Greg. I've seen your work. You underestimate yourself far too much. I'm pretty sure you're smarter than half the boys here." Mycroft said, chuckling a bit softly.

Greg couldn't hold back a smile as his ears turned pink. Compliments were always nice, but a compliment from Mycroft Holmes? In the area of academics? It was practically unheard of. "Thanks, My." he murmured, fidgeting a bit. "Still not sure whether I did it right, though."

"We'll see in class, I suppose. That's our first period today, correct?" Mycroft asked. At Greg's nod, he continued. "We won't be doing much today. He's in too good a mood. He slept with the school nurse last night."

Greg nearly choked on his orange juice as he held back a laugh. "How could you possibly know that?" he asked, glancing over at a table near the entrance where several teachers were sitting, among them their biology teacher.

"Last night, he left dinner going in the direction of Nurse Jenny's building, not his own. And this morning he came to breakfast from that direction as well. And he's wearing a bandage just below his ear, though the area immediately around it seems to be just fine. More than likely, he's hiding a mark."

"Damn." Greg laughed. "Well, good for him. And good for us if he really is in the good mood you say he is."

Mycroft nodded, standing up and grabbing his bag from the floor. "Shall we go then?" he asked, starting to head off before Greg had even agreed.

They walked past over to the science building, mostly in silence. Mycroft seemed to still be a bit nervous around Greg, as though he was going to start teasing or mocking him any second. Greg couldn't help but feel terrible for him. None of the other boys seemed to be very fond of Mycroft and he must have obviously been alone all the previous years.

They got to the Biology classroom just after their professor. Just as Mycroft had predicted, he seemed to be in a much better mood today than usual and just played a movie for them. While he insisted they take notes, most boys just talked quietly to their friends while the movie played in the background. Greg tried to talk to Mycroft, but the other by hushed him and insisted on taking notes of the movie. Therefore, Greg wound up spending his first two periods of class watching a documentary on Darwinism.

Halfway through their next class, Greg got called out of the classroom and told to go up to the office. He didn't mind. He'd been in the middle of Calculus, which he absolutely hated. He wasn't too worried about being in any sort of trouble. He hadn't broken any rules. Mycroft would have probably given him an earful. He strolled into the office calmly, getting a bit curious when he was told to sit and wait to be called into the headmaster's office. What could Siger Holmes want with him? More than likely, he wanted to talk about Mycroft, but what could he need that he would call Greg out of class?

It took nearly half an hour for Greg to be called back in. Every minute that passed by made Greg more anxious. At the fifteen minute mark, he started fidgeting nervously. While when he'd gotten to the office, he couldn't possibly think of any reason as to why he'd be in trouble, now he'd come up with a list a mile long. It was all incredibly ridiculous reasons such as using the wrong fork at dinner, not tying his shoe laces correctly, tying his tie on the wrong way, and other stupid things. The list went on and on. In the wait, he retied his tie about a dozen times, tucked his shirt in again a handful of times, and twice, leaned down to fix his shoes and socks. When the headmaster's secretary finally called him in, Greg took a deep breath and stepped inside the office.

"Good afternoon, Headmaster." Greg said, standing stiffly in front of the now closed door. He had his hands behind his back, stood straight as a rod, and held his chin up.

"Ah, Mr. Lestrade. Good to see you," Siger said, taking his reading glasses off and looking up from some papers on his desk. "Take a seat." He gestured towards one of the empty seats in front of his desk.

Greg took a seat in front of him, trying to appear as confident as possible. "Is there something wrong, sir?" he asked, the thousand stupid reasons why he might be in trouble flashing through his head.

Siger shook his head and smiled at the teenager, though it was easy to see how faked it was. "No, no. Nothing to worry about. I just wish to speak to you about my son. I've been told you two have been spending a lot of time together. Far more than the few days I asked Mycroft to show you around."

Greg nodded. "Yes, sir. Mycroft and I are good friends." he confirmed. He couldn't possibly be in trouble for being friends with the headmaster's son, could he?

"And you two are… just friends, correct?"

Ah. So that's what this is about. On autopilot and instinct alone, Greg nodded, making a face to show how absurd he thought the idea was. He was used to lying about things like this back home. "Of course. I have a girlfriend back home." Another lie, but he and Mycroft had talked very briefly about this. They'd agreed it sounded far more believable to say that Greg had someone waiting for him back him.

Siger looked incredibly relieved, though he still had an air of superiority to him. It was obvious that he though Greg was far below him in all aspects. "Good, good. I'd certainly hate to have the two of you suffer the consequences if you were anything more."

It was a thinly veiled threat that made Greg pale slightly as he nodded. "I understand, sir. You've nothing to worry about." he assured him.

"I'm sure I don't, Mr. Lestrade. Now off to class with you. We only have the best here at Eton. Won't have any of my students failing their exams." he said, shooing Greg with a wave of his hand as he went back to his paper work.

Greg nodded again and scurried out of the room in the most dignified manner he could manage, which, granted, wasn't very dignified at all. He was a bit shaken after this, wanting nothing more than to pull Mycroft into one of their dorms to tell him about what had happened. But there were still a few more hours of class to go and he couldn't risk having someone overhear, so he simply settled for deciding that he would tell Mycroft at the first chance they go.

It was already lunch time when he left the office building. When he walked in, he saw Mycroft sitting alone in the corner of a table, a textbook in front of him instead of a plate of food. Looking back, Mycroft's eating habits had been glaringly obvious since the beginning of the year and Greg was sure he wouldn't stop beating himself up about it for a long while. His mind strayed to Siger's vague threat and as he approached the table with a heavy heart, he hoped with all his heart that he hadn't missed something else when it came to Mycroft and his father.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Once again, I’m sorry this took me so long! I know it’s the same excuse as last time and that it’s no less game, but basketball has been keeping me pretty busy lately. Winter break starts for me next week and with any luck I’ll have enough free time to write a few chapters in advance. At the very least, I hope to update at least once a week. Really, though, if I’m a bit slow, feel free to bug me through private messaging or on my tumblr (littlewatsonholmes). :P So, some things to look forward to for next time: Mycroft and Greg talking about Siger, some interactionbetween Mycroft and Greg’s friends from football, and who knows? Maybe Elliot will be causing some trouble again ;)


	9. In Which Girls Are Not Greg's Division

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: So, Greg and Mycroft have face claims now. Greg is Liam Payne (don't judge, it fits xD) and Mycroft is Sean Berdy. :) Also, the fic has a title now (I've been meaning to change it since I first put it up, I just hadn't gotten around to it) and it's after the Fall Out Boy song :P

**Chapter 9**

Mycroft barely waited thirty seconds before starting to interrogate Greg on where he'd gone and if he'd been in his father's office. "Where were you? Did my father call for you? What did he want? Are you okay?" he asked, all practically in one breath.

"Mycroft, I'm fine. Breathe. Calm down." Greg said, patting the other boy's shoulders. "Yes, your father was the one that wanted to talk to me. As for what he said, well… we'll talk later, all right?"

Mycroft swallowed thickly, looking even more worried now than when Greg had first sat down. He nodded. "Very well. We'll speak after class."

"Here. Eat an apple." Greg said, putting one down on top of the book Mycroft was looking over. Mycroft looked at it with distaste but he took a tiny bite from it. Greg gave him a grateful smile. "So, what did I miss in class?"

"Not much. After you left, we just started on the homework." Mycroft said, shrugging. "I'll help you this afternoon, if you wish."

"I'd like that." Greg nodded. They fell back into silence, not that either boy minded. It was quiet until a few minutes later when Thomas approached, grinning and looking far too chipper for it to be before nine o'clock in the morning.

"Hey, Greg!" he said, as he sat down, putting a glass of juice down carelessly, the liquid inside threatening to spill over as it sloshed about. "Hello, Mycroft. Do you two mind if I sit here?" Thomas asked.

Mycroft fidgeted slightly in his seat, but he gave Greg the briefest of nods, so he knew there wouldn't be a problem. "Of course you can sit here, mate." Greg assured Thomas, brow scrunching in confusion as he looked over the other boy's shoulders in search of Quinn and Ross. The three were almost always together.

"Where are Quinn and Ross?" Greg asked, raising an eyebrow. "You three are usually joined at the hip."

"Yeah, just like you and Mycroft." Thomas laughed. He smirked and leaned closer to the two boys, lowering his voice to just above a whisper. "They're probably not going to be around today. They're 'sick'. At least, that's what we told everyone. The two idiots snuck out last night. There's a girls school about a twenty minute drive from here and Quinn keeps his car parked in the town's local supermarket so he can sneak out every once in a while and go over. Since he's not back yet, it's pretty safe to assume he got laid last night. Either that, or he got caught."

Greg laughed. "Oh, boy. Sounds like they had quite the night, then. Hopefully they'll be back by tonight. It'd be easy to explain missing meals and class. They could just say they had a cold or something. But if they're not here by the time rounds are being made before lights out, well… they'll be in trouble."

Thomas chuckled, nodding. "Once they got here the exact moment that attendance began. They're always sneaking out. I think the teachers have just stopped caring and look the other way." The boy cast a weary glance towards Mycroft, as if suddenly remembering that he was sitting with a prefect. "Er… you're not going to punish them, are you? Or tell your father?"

Mycroft shook his head. "You've nothing to worry about. My father won't find out from me. If your friends aren't careful, though…"

He nodded. "Yeah, don't worry. They know. They should be back any minute now." Thomas assured him.

"Say, why didn't you go with them? I'd imagine a girls only school is the best place to find a girlfriend? Or not even a girlfriend, just someone to spend the night with." Greg pointed out, laughing.

"Er… I'm not really looking for a girlfriend or even a quick shag or something. But if I was, I'd be more likely to find one here." he admitted, fidgeting uncomfortably and looking awfully nervous. "Girls aren't really all that appealing for me."

"Oh." Greg patted his back encouragingly. "Don't worry 'bout it, mate. Girls aren't really my division, either."

Mycroft remained quiet at his seat, shifting a bit uncomfortably. Thomas noticed and cleared his throat, changing the subject of conversation to football and classes. Greg reached under the table and squeezed Mycroft's knee gently. He knew that Mycroft was as far back in the closet as it was possible for anyone to be and after meeting Siger that afternoon, he could understand why. If he had a father like that, he'd probably want to keep it as secret as possible, too. When the bell for the rest of their classes rang, Greg and Mycroft bid Thomas goodbye and went off to Latin.

Their afternoon classes passed by quickly, thankfully. Greg was spaced out for most of it, but he didn't worry too much. Mycroft always let him borrow his notes. When their last bell rang, they gathered their things and began the walk back to their dorm rooms.

"Do you have football today?" Mycroft asked, looking over at Greg with an arched eyebrow.

He shook his head. "Nope. Fridays are my day off from football. I don't think I have anything this afternoon, actually. You?" He knew that Mycroft was involved in what seemed like every activity at school and it felt like he was always off at extra curricular activities.

"No. Nothing so important that I can't miss it, anyway. Come on," he walked a bit faster, gesturing for Greg to follow. "We'll go up to my room. You can tell me why you were called to the office."

Greg nodded. "Right. Calm down, alright? It'll be pretty rubbish if you die of an aneurysm before the day is out, Mycroft."

"You're not as funny as you think you are, Gregory." he said, shooting Greg a half hearted glare. "I'm worried. That's all. Now, hurry up." Mycroft tugged at Greg's wrist to get him to walk faster.

Mycroft wound up practically dragging Greg behind him the rest of the way up to his dorm room while Greg spent the entire time telling him to calm down. Finally, they were up at Mycroft's dorm and the second the door closed behind them, Mycroft Greg pinned against the wall and pulled him into a kiss.

"You're okay, right?" he asked. The facade of nonchalant prefect who cared about nothing but his grades was gone now. Now it was easy to see how scared he really was underneath it all and it practically broke Greg's heart.

"It's okay, My." Greg assured him, cupping Mycroft's face in his hands and pressing gentle kisses to his cheeks and jaw. "I'm fine. See? I'm all in one piece, aren't I? Your father… he just wanted to know if the two of us were really friends. That's all."

"Don't lie to me, Greg." Mycroft mumbled, burrowing his face in Greg's neck. "I know my father and he wouldn't call you over just for that. Tell me before I have to find out myself. I'd rather hear it from you."

He sighed as he ran his fingers through Mycroft's hair. He really didn't know how he'd thought he could get away with lying to someone like Mycroft Holmes. "He just… he asked if we were just friends. Obviously, I lied and said yes. And he said that was good because I really wouldn't like the consequences if the answer had been that we were more than friends. It's no big deal, My. Just don't worry too much, okay?"

Mycroft nodded shakily. "Fine… But if he ever calls you over to his office again, you tell me, okay?"

"Of course, I will, My." Greg assured him, nodding. "You don't have to worry about it." He led them over to Mycroft's bed, sitting at the edge and rubbing his back. "I just… I know parents can be rubbish sometimes, but why are you so afraid of your dad? He doesn't… He doesn't hit you, does he?"

"He… yells a lot. But he's not usually violent, no." he shook his head. Mycroft stopped him just as Greg started to protest - 'Usually?!'. "Just drop it, okay? Not today, Greg. I just… don't wanna talk about him today."

Greg nodded begrudgingly. "All right, My… I'll drop it for now. Just for now, though, okay?" At Mycroft's nod, he relaxed a bit, leaning forward to give him a brief kiss. "Now calm down a bit, okay? I don't like seeing you so upset. Besides, you need to help me with our Latin homework."

Mycroft rolled his eyes as he moved to kiss him again. "You're an idiot, Greg." he mumbled fondly against his lips.

"You know you love me, anyway!" Greg teased, laughing. He froze a moment after, realizing his phrasing. "Er… I mean, uh, y'know, like me anyway. Not, uh, not love. I mean, unless you, um, wanted to, but, er-" he stuttered, his ears turning bright red.

Mycroft shut him up with another kiss. "You're an idiot, Greg." he murmured again. "But you're right, I do love you, anyway." he said, wrapping his arms around the other boy's waist.

"Really?" Greg asked, grinning goofily. "Cause, uh, I think I love you, too, My." he said, feeling himself turn even redder.

"You're so romantic, Greg. I 'think' I love you, too." he quoted, shaking his head in amusement. "You're adorable."

Greg grinned as he practically tackled Mycroft down onto the bed, kissing him eagerly and pinning him down against the mattress. He wasn't used to this. He wasn't used to wanting to be with someone for more than one night or the butterflies in his stomach or just the feeling of rightness he got when he was around Mycroft. But if it was always like what he was feeling at that moment, then he had a pretty good feeling he'd be able to get used to it without a problem.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thanks for all the follows, reviews, kudos, etc. Merry Christmas! :D


	10. In Which They Go To The Lake

 

A few days later, when the week came to a close, Greg was still giddy from saying ‘I love you’. This was all new to him. Back home, he’d had a reputation for sleeping around quite a bit, bit it had never been anything like this. Those encounters had all been one night stands, more often than not fueled by copious amounts of alcohol. With Mycroft it was different. He felt stupid butterflies in his stomach when he was around the other boy, sometimes he wanted nothing more than to just hold his hand or cuddle, and there was always a feeling of content when he was with Mycroft. With the people back home, they’d seldom shared introductions before going off to bed. It hadn’t been about intimacy or the caring, it had just been about the sex.

With Mycroft, it was different. He hadn’t even seen Mycroft shirtless, yet. It didn’t matter. He didn’t want just a casual shag or a blowjob against the bathroom counter or anything like that. He just wanted Mycroft. It was strange and new to Greg. It felt a bit like the feeling his mother described whenever she talked about the time she’d spent with his father. It seemed a bit surreal to think that he was falling in love. It had been the last thing he’d expected when he’d arrived at Eton for the first time. He spent all his time day dreaming about Mycroft like some stupid schoolgirl and, really, he didn’t mind one bit. However, if he found himself accidentally thinking that Greg Holmes or Mycroft Lestrade sounded perfect together, Greg was sure he’d go mad.

The week passed by quickly enough. Mycroft showed up to all the meals now, though he usually didn’t eat, much to Greg’s concern. Quinn, Ross, and Thomas had been having their meals at the same table more often now. Mycroft didn’t really talk to them, but he didn’t complain either. Greg was hoping that eventually, the five of them could be friends. From what he could tell, Mycroft hadn’t really had any friends before Greg had come to school and if there was anything he could do to change that, then Greg would try his hardest to do so. Plans had been made Thursday night to head to a nearby lake for a few hours on Saturday afternoon. Mycroft hadn’t been the most excited for it, but he hadn’t complained at the table because he hadn’t wanted to be rude and later, in Greg’s dorm room, Greg had managed to convince him that it wasn’t a horrible idea and that Mycroft should tag along.

Friday and Saturday morning had passed by quickly enough. Quinn, Ross, and Thomas were meant to show up at their floor later at noon so they could head over to the lake. Greg had dressed in shorts - it was still surprisingly warm for mid October - and a Fall out Boy t-shirt with a pair of plain, black Vans. He couldn’t exactly dress like he did back home, but he figured a band t-shirt wouldn’t be too far out there. A quick look out the window told him that it was one of those rare, sunny days in England, and he grabbed his sunglasses, heading out his room and moving over to Mycroft’s dorm a quarter of an hour before noon. He knocked on the door, going in when Mycroft indicated it was okay. Greg smiled, leaning forward to give him a chaste kiss after closing the door behind him.

“You look nice,” Mycroft said, giving him a quick look over. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in anything other than long trousers or football shorts. It’s a nice in between.”

“And you are in trousers and a dress shirt.” Greg pointed out, raising an eyebrow. “Honestly, who wears trousers and a dress shirt to a lake?”

Mycroft rolled his eyes. “It’s too cold to swim either way, so I don’t see the point in dressing as if I were going to.”

“You’re no fun.” Greg complained, strewing himself across Mycroft’s bed with his feet dangling off the bed. “Obviously, I don’t plan on swimming, either, but half the reason I agreed that it was a good idea was so I could see more of your legs.”

Mycroft turned bright red. “You could have just asked, you know? No need to make up some absurd excuse.”

There was a knock at the door and Greg hopped up to his feet. “Well, no time to argue now. I’ll just have to wrangle you into shorts some other time.” He gave Mycroft a quick kiss before moving over to open the door. “Hey, Thomas.” he greeted, giving his friend a warm smile. “Quinn and Ross are downstairs, yeah?”

Thomas nodded in confirmation before the three of them started heading downstairs. Quinn and  Ross were waiting by the entrance and they shared a brief greeting before starting to walk over to Quinn’s car. Ross sat up front in the passenger seat, Quinn drove, and the remaining three piled into the backseat. Greg sat perhaps a bit too close to Mycroft, pressing their thighs together, but no one noticed. And if they did, they mercifully chose not to comment on it.

Mycroft was quiet the entire ride, still feeling a bit uncomfortable with the other boys. Greg more than made up for Mycroft’s silence with his rowdiness. Quinn had turned on the radio and Greg, displeased with the music playing, began singing I Write Sins Not Tragedies at the top of his lungs to drown out the radio. Mycroft looked extremely embarrassed and like he was seriously reconsidering his life choices. The other boys laughed and lowered the volume on the radio. Greg didn’t really care what they thought. He just really didn’t want to hear Justin Bieber on the radio.

It was a short drive. Only about ten minutes. Soon enough, Quinn had stopped the car, Thomas had slapped a hand over Greg’s mouth to shut him up, and they’d stepped out of the car. Quinn and Ross set up some blankets for them to sit on and brought out an assortment of snacks while Thomas and Greg wrestled playfully near the car. Mycroft just stood awkwardly to the side until Ross came back to the car to grab a football out of the trunk.

“You don’t play football, right?” he asked, hoping to start a conversation and make the poor boy feel a little less awkward.

Mycroft nodded stiffly. “Correct. It’s to my understanding that the four of you do, yes? Gregory talks about football practices with you a lot.”

Greg stopped trying to tackle Thomas to look up at Mycroft for a moment. “God, Mycroft, we’re all friends here. No need to use your prefect talk.” he said before Thomas tackled him to the ground with a successful cackle.

“Prefect talk?” Ross tried to stifle a laugh, but failed quite miserably. “Sorry, sorry. I’ve just never heard it described as that. It quite fits actually. No offence.”

Mycroft sighed, knowing it was a battle he wouldn’t win, and nodded. “It’s perfectly fine.” he assured him. He headed over to where Quinn was now setting up his speakers to play some music and looked down at the blankets with distaste before gingerly setting himself down on the floor and cracking open a book he was in the middle of reading.

Greg and Thomas had stopped trying to kill each other and had moved over to the blankets so they could munch on some crisps. Greg laid down across the blanket, looking up at Mycroft and his book. “What’re you reading this time? Weren’t you halfway through the Book Thief yesterday?”

“Yes and I finished it. Obviously,” Mycroft said, putting the book down slightly so he could look at Greg. “I’m rereading To Kill a Mockingbird now.”

“Are you like… naturally smart and studious or whatever? Or do you have to work for it?” Quinn asked, raising an eyebrow. Aside from Mycroft, the boys there were the type to spend their free time playing football and listening to music. The last thing they’d do with their spare time was read.

Mycroft seemed the slightest bit annoyed by the question, but answered it anyway after Greg shot him an apologetic look. “Obviously, grades have always been rather important to my father. When I was little, I had a tutor that would come over after school and give me additional lessons. It was challenging at first, but I got used to it. And now it just comes naturally.”

“Don’t you ever get tired of it? I mean… I imagine there are times when you just want to go out and play football or something?” Ross asked, bouncing the football he was holding up and down a bit.

“I’ve never been one for sports.” Mycroft shook his head. “So, that’s never been much of a problem for me. I’m perfectly content to stay with my books and leave the kicking balls around for you boys.”

Greg gasped, horrified. “Football is way more than just kicking a ball around! It takes skill and precision and practice and hard work. Just as much hard work as your perfect grades do,”

Thomas nodded in agreement. “It’s a lot harder than it looks. And I’m sure that it’s way more tiring than even the longest study session. You’re not running around when you’re studying.”

He rolled his eyes. “Whatever you say. I still think it’s much easier to learn how to kick a ball around than to learn all the material needed to keep my grades up.”

“Let’s end this now before it ends in the four of us murdering Mycroft.” Quinn suggested, shaking his head in amusement. “I think we can all reach the agreement that Mycroft is a very good student and a pretty bad football player, while we’re very good football players and decent students at most.”

There was a consensus amongst the five of them - with Mycroft looking a tad bit bashful at the compliment to his academic skills he nodded, which Greg found adorable - and they started talking about anything that came to mind. Briefly, they talked about celebrities which they found attractive - with Quinn and Ross agreeing on Karen Gillan while Thomas and Greg agreed on David Tennant - but Greg made sure to switch the subject as nonchalantly as possible when he noticed Mycroft shifting uncomfortably where he was sitting. He knew Mycroft was already out of his comfort zone by being here, he didn’t want him to be even more uncomfortable.

The conversation moved over to football after that, and soon enough, they’d gotten to their feet and started kicking the ball around amongst themselves and laughing like idiots whilst they did so. Mycroft, of course, stayed sitting through this, with his book perched on his lap. Greg could see that his eyes strayed up towards him every few seconds though, and couldn’t help but find it sweet. At some point, Greg managed to accidentally kick the ball so hard he sent it flying off towards dense trees and brushery. The boys laughed, playfully yelling at Greg that now he’d have to go get it. Greg had only chuckled, nodding and holding his hands up in surrender. He pulled Mycroft up from where he’d been sitting, declaring that he didn’t want to go off to the trees alone in case he got lost, but really he just wanted a quick snog behind some trees when they were far away enough for the boys to not see them.

“You’re ridiculous.” Mycroft grumbled under his breath as he followed behind Greg. “I don’t see why I had to come along. It’s too hot to be walking.”

“Maybe if you’d worn shorts and a t-shirt,” Greg answered, sticking his tongue out at the boy and holding back laughter at Mycroft’s pout. (Though he knew Mycroft would likely say that it was most definitely not a pout, but a very threatening, very manly scowl.)

“I don’t even own a t-shirt!” he protested, rolling his eyes. Mycroft dramatically trudged along beside Greg as if they’d just spend the day hiking Everest and Greg hadn’t allowed him to take a single break. They’d been walking for barely two minutes. When he spotted the football, Mycroft breathed out a sigh of relief and bent down to pick it up.

As Mycroft stood back up and started walking back towards where the other boys were, Greg pinned him up against one of the trees and pressed their lips together. Mycroft yelped in surprise before melting into the kiss, letting the football drop down behind him so he could move his arms to wrap around Greg’s neck. He wrapped his arms around Mycroft’s waist, pulling him closer as they kissed. They stayed like that for a few minutes and Greg would have gladly stayed like that for hours if it weren’t for the snapping of a twig he heard a short distance off. Greg and Mycroft both jumped apart, reaching down for the ball and acting as though nothing had happened.

Thomas came into view and he gave them both a knowing look upon noticing their swollen lips and disheveled clothing, but didn’t say anything otherwise. “Ah, you found the ball. Good. We were beginning to worry that you’d gotten lost.”

Greg cleared his throat, shaking his head as he handed the ball to Thomas and ran a hand through his hair to tame it. “No, just took us a bit to find it. Here it is, though. No need to worry.”

“Mmhmm. I’m sure it was soooo hard to find.” Thomas agreed. He smirked, giving them another look over before turning on his heel and walking back towards where there stuff and Quinn and Ross were. “Feel free to join us again wherever.”

As Thomas walked away, Mycroft and Greg exchanged guilty looks. At the same time, both of them were experiencing immense relief. Someone knew and the world hadn’t ended. Everything was just the same as always. For two boys who were as far in the closet as Mycroft and Greg, knowing that everything was fine despite someone knowing was a great relief. The two boys both burst into breathless, giddy giggles, sharing one last chaste kiss before going back towards the other boys at the beach, content in the knowledge that there was still a chance that they had nothing to worry about.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Once again, sorry about the wait. It’s more or less the same excuse as last time, but I relapsed on my self harm issues and it’s just been a mess, but enough about my life. I’ll try to get everything handled so I can’t update more often :P Thank you for being so patient! Next time, there’s a pretty big guarantee that Greg’s family will show up ;) Thanks for reading!


	11. In Which Greg Is On Break

The rest of the day passed by normally enough. Greg and Mycroft managed to keep their hands off each other and Thomas didn’t mention anything to the other boys, though he kept looking in their direction with a knowing smirk. Before they left, of course, Greg and Quinn had both been pushed into the freezing cold water. Greg almost pulled Mycroft in, but the death glare he received when he started reaching to him was enough to get the idea out of his head. Thomas and Ross, however, didn’t escape their fate and a few hours later, when they had returned to school, Mycroft was the only one not shivering from the cold.

They five of them spent the rest of the weekend together, hanging out around campus. Mycroft was slowly - very, very slowly - but surely`beginning to feel more comfortable around the three other boys. By the end of the week, he had even begun talking at meals. He only ever talked about schoolwork or what had happened in classes, but it was talking which was more than he’d done before.

They were leaving on a short leave the Friday after they’d gone to the lake. From that Friday to the next Monday they’d be at home with their families. It wasn’t long, but Greg was glad for the chance to see his family again. Even if for only a week. Greg couldn’t stop being excited about that and that was all he could talk about on Thursday. The football lads - as Greg was beginning to refer to Quinn, Ross, and Thomas in his head - were all excited as well, though they had been boarding away from home since they were thirteen, so they weren’t nearly as homesick as Greg. Mycroft hadn’t said anything about his family, yet, save a brief comment about hoping his younger brother hadn’t burned down the house. Greg was a bit worried. He was going to a family that, while struggling with monetary issues, doubtlessly loved each other and would always be there for each other. Mycroft he wasn’t so sure about, but Greg had a feeling Mycroft wasn’t going back to the nicest of home lives.

Friday afternoon, just after classes had finished and parents were starting to pick their sons up, Greg finished packing a few more things for the week before heading to Mycroft’s room. Neither of them had to worry much about needing to leave soon. Greg was taking the train back to London so he wasn’t in a hurry and Mycroft was leaving with his father, who was leaving the next morning since he was headmaster.

Greg knocked at the door. “Mycroft? It’s me,”

The door opened a few moments later and Mycroft ushered him in, closing the door behind Greg. “When are you leaving, love?” he asked, sitting at the edge of his bed and gesturing for Greg to sit next to him.

Greg sat down, close enough for their knees to bump together. He reached down between them and intertwined their fingers. “About an hour. I’m taking a train back to London. You’re leaving in the morning, yeah?”

Mycroft sighed, nodding. “Yes. It’ll be terribly lonely without you around.” he commented. Greg knew that Mycroft would deny it, but he had the cutest pout on him as he complained about being alone.

“You can text me all you want. And if you can get away a few hours, I’m sure I could convince my Mum let you come over.” he assured him, leaning over to give him a soft kiss. “It’s only a week. And then we’ll be right back with each other again.”

“Really? You don’t think your mother would would allow me to stay a few hours?” Mycroft asked hopefully, looking at the other boy with big, blue eyes.

Greg nodded, running his fingers through Mycroft’s hair. “I’m sure of it. Just give me a few hours heads up that you’re coming over, all right?” He didn’t even want to think of how shameful it would be to have Mycroft - unbelievably rich and posh - in his cramped, little flat. Greg could worry about that when he knew Mycroft was safe and happy.

“Thank you, Greg.” he said, resting his head on Greg’s shoulder. Mycroft rested a hand on Greg’s knee, tilting his head up to press a kiss to Greg’s jaw. “I love you.”

“Love you, too.” he said, placing a hand on the nape of his neck and pulling him into a kiss. “Don’t worry too much, all right? Things will work out.” he promised. “Just wait and see. Everything will be all right.”

Mycroft nodded before turning all his attention to the kiss. They remained like that well into the next hour until finally, Greg couldn’t delay leaving any longer. He and Mycroft bid each other goodbye and shared a few more sweet kisses before Greg got his things and left towards the station. He passed by Mycroft’s father in the hallway on his way out and tried very hard not to attract the other man’s attention as he passed by, keeping his head down and passing by quickly. Greg knew that Mycroft could notice even the smallest of things and make deductions from them and he didn’t know if he’d gotten that from his father, but either way, it didn’t take a genius to notice his swollen lips and messy hair and come to the conclusion that he’d just been thoroughly snogged.

Usually he and Mycroft did those things later at night behind locked doors of their room so no one would see either of them like this, but most boys had already left. Neither of them had counted on passing by any of their teachers, least of all Siger Holmes. Despite his rushing by, Greg felt eyes on the back of his head as he walked by and couldn’t help but feel a cold sense of dread running down his spine. It was probably nothing, he reminded himself. Siger was the headmaster and he was a student. That was reason enough to glance over at him. Still, Greg was worried. He decided it was best not to tell Mycroft about it. No point in worrying him for what was probably nothing.

Despite assuring himself that everything was fine, Greg couldn’t help but worry all train ride long. He spent most of it with his headphones plugged in, blaring Panic! at the Disco to calm his nerves. It would be dinner time by the time he arrived at home again and he couldn’t wait for his first homecooked meal since going off for school. Not that the food at school wasn’t good, it was just nothing compared to anything his mother made with love. And eating all his meals with all his classmates was vastly different from sitting with his siblings. Eating with his baby brothers and sister was messy, loud and just a tad bit annoying. Greg would take it over eating at Eton any day.

Greg didn’t bother taking a cab once he’d arrived back in London. The walk to his flat was nearly another hour, but Greg didn’t mind. Besides, he’d rather take the walk than have to pay a cab fare. The money could be put to better use like rent or groceries. Greg knew better than to spend money on unnecessary things like cabs. He quite liked walking, either way. Helped keep him fit for football.

No one in their right mind would just stroll into the part of the city Greg’s flat was in. Not without a gun or a sturdy knife. Had Greg been six again, living at a military base with his mother, father, his four year old little brother, and two newborn twin brothers, he would have probably been terrified of going into that part of the city as well. But that was the past. It was practically another life. He was no longer his father’s little Gregory Lestrade, living a perfect life on a military base and wanting nothing more than to be just like his father when he grew up. Now he was just Greg Lestrade, living in a shoddy flat in a bad neighborhood with a mother who could barely afford to keep everyone fed. He been living in the places people were afraid of walking through at night long enough to be a common face through it. He had gotten into - and won - enough fights that people thought twice before bothering him as he walked through the neighborhood.

Sure enough, by the time Greg was going up the three flights of stairs and opening the door to his flat, no one had bothered him save for a few ex classmates that had made comments about how they’d missed him and the team wasn’t the same without him. He’d given them all quick, polite replies, not wanting to be rude, but also rather eager to make it home as soon as possible. When Greg finally entered his house, closing the door behind him and leaving his bag by the door, he couldn’t help but break out into a wide grin. He’d missed it.

“Mum! I’m home!” he called out as he went to his room to leave his shoes and bag on the floor by his bed. Greg went over to the kitchen where his mother was finishing up dinner and his little sister was helping.

“Greggie!” Lily, the youngest of the Lestrade children at just six, exclaimed, jumping up to hug him. Lily absolutely adored her older brother and had practically idolized him from the moment she’d been born.

Greg laughed, bending down to pick her up as she jumped up at him. “Hey, Lily! I’ve missed you, kid.” he said, pressing a few kisses to the top of her hair. After nearly a month and a half of living with only other teenage boys, he’d missed having his little sister around.

“What? No kisses for you mother?” Marie teased, smiling warmly at her son. Greg had missed his mother’s smiles as well. He’d come to realize that he’d never really appreciated what he had until he’d been away from it. He and his family didn’t live in the best of places and there always seemed to be some bill they couldn’t afford to pay and needed to put extra shifts in to manage it, but they all loved each other dearly and Greg had come to learn that that was far better than having money to spare and next to no relationship among family members. He’d seen his fair share of boys like that at Eton.

With the hand not holding Lily close to his chest, he reached forward and pulled his mother into a one armed hug, kissing her cheek. “I’ve missed you too, Mum. You know that.” he said, smiling down at her. Greg cast a glance at the lasagna in the oven and grinned. “And I’ve especially missed your cooking.”

“I helped, Greggie! I helped!” Lily exclaimed, beaming proudly at him.

Marie chuckled, kissing Lily’s forehead before pulling back to start setting the table. “She most certainly did. I don’t know what I would have done without her. I’m certainly very lucky to have gotten such helpful little ducklings. Your brothers are out playing football. They should be back soon.”

“I was wondering where they’d gone. I was beginning to think they didn’t love me anymore and just didn’t feel like seeing me again!” he laughed, setting his little sister back down on the ground. He winked at her, ruffling the bright ginger hair she’d inherited from their mother. “At least I know you and Mum will always love me.”

Lily hugged his leg tightly, nodding. “Always, Greggie!” she promised, not letting go of her grip on his right leg. “You, me, an’ Mummy are way better than those stinky boys anyway!”

“Lily, don’t talk about your brothers like that.” Marie warned, though she was smiling and shaking her head in amusement. Being the baby of the family and the only girl, Lily had a soft spot in all their hearts and could get away with practically anything if she just batted her eyelashes at them and grinned sweetly.

“It’s true,” she giggled, just as the front door opened and his three brothers clambered in, talking and laughing loudly amongst themselves. Greg never ceased to be amazed by the amount of noise two ten year olds and a fourteen year old could make together.

Greg heard the sound of football equipment being thrown aside and cleats being kicked off, before the three boys came towards the kitchen. Jack - or maybe Matthew, he could never tell - spotted him first and lit up, running forward to almost tackle Greg in a hug. “Greg! You’re home!” he exclaimed.

Matthew (or was it Jack?) ran up as well, wrapping his arms around both his brothers. Now Greg had Lily wrapped around his leg and both the twins around his torso. He didn’t mind it one bit. “We missed you!” he told him, grinning up at him.

Greg ruffled their hairs. “Missed you too, kiddos. Mind letting me go now? I can’t breathe properly!” he teased, laughing.

“Sorry, Greg,” they chorused, giggling as they stepped back. Jack looked over at the oven, grinning. “Oooh! Is dinner almost done, Mum?”

Marie nodded as she finished setting out the last plate. “Yes, my duckling. You two and Ryan go change out of your football gear. We’ll have dinner right after.”

The twins nodded, shuffling over to their room. Ryan followed them, patting Greg on the shoulder and smiling at him. “It’s good to have you back, Greg.” he said, giving him a quick hug before going to change.

While they were changing in their bedroom, Greg pried Lily off his leg and helped his mother serve their lasagna and pour everyone’s milk. He sat back down and Lily crawled up onto his lap. As he pressed another kiss to the top of her head, Greg couldn’t think of anywhere else he’d rather be.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Again, sorry about the wait, same reasons as last time, hopefully I’ll be updating faster soon enough. I hope you liked this chapter, though :) Thank you for all the reviews and love I’ve been getting. It’s pretty amazing! Next chapter, we have Mycroft and Lestrade family interactions, so you have that to look forward to ;)


	12. In Which Greg And Mycroft Go On A Date

Chapter 12

 

Dinner that night was by far the best Greg had had in the weeks since he’d left for school. Jack and Matthew had been absolutely insufferable through dinner, teasing him mercilessly about how posh he was going to become while he was off at Eton, Lily sat on his lap all dinner long, and Ryan kept making half hearted comments about how annoying, though Greg could tell that he’d missed him just as much as Greg had. While he was getting ready for bed that night, Greg’s phone buzzed with the notification that he had a text message.

I know it hasn’t even been a day yet and this may seem a bit desperate and pathetic, but may I go by your flat tomorrow? - M

Greg smiled as he read through the text, heart swelling at the fact that Mycroft had missed him as much as he had. A part of him wanted to say no to the question, though, afraid that when Mycroft saw firsthand just how little money his family had, he wouldn’t want to stay with Greg any longer and would instead choose to go off with someone richer and posher. Someone like Thomas, maybe. Still, he couldn’t turn Mycroft away. He cared for the other boy too much.

of course u can, love. id love to see u. what time? - GL

Your lack of punctuation and proper spelling in your texts is horrendous. - M

Will noon work for you? - M

Greg laughed. Leave it to Mycroft to have perfect punctuation while texting. He’d finished brushing his teeth and changing into his pyjamas and was now laying in bed, texting Mycroft until one of them fell asleep. His laugh earned him a strange look from Ryan who eyed his phone suspiciously. He took special care to spell everything correctly this time around.

It works fantastically. Would you like to meet somewhere and take advantage of the time and go on a date while we’re out? - GL

I would love to. I’ll text you tomorrow around noon. Oh, and your attempts at improving the quality of your texts are much appreciated. - M

Dork. Love you. - GL

Love you too. Sleep well, dear. - M

Greg smiled, locking his phone again and tucking it under his pillow. His brothers had already fallen asleep, so Greg took the opportunity to stand back up and press gentle kisses to their foreheads, murmuring ‘I love you’s’. He really had missed his family while he was gone. After that, he laid down, closing his eyes and falling back to sleep almost instantly. It had been a long day and he was absolutely exhausted.

He woke up to the smell of pancakes and something chocolatey in the flat. Greg sat up, sniffing at the air and rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. His mother had definitely made breakfast. Back at school, Mycroft would usually have to knock at his door at least ten minutes before he was supposed to be getting ready because Greg was horrible at waking up and leaving the comfort of his bed. Here at home, though, with the promise of his mum’s breakfast and a date with Mycroft later on, he was up just a few moments after waking up and opening his eyes. Greg shuffled into the kitchen, groaning with pleasure as he saw six plates of red velvet pancakes laid out on the table.

“Have I ever told you how great you are, Mum?” Greg asked, leaning down to kiss her cheek as he sat down at the table, grabbing his fork and ready to start eating.

“Once or twice, but it’s nice to hear.” she answered, chuckling. She slapped his hand lightly. “No eating until your siblings are at the table. You know that.”

Greg groaned, pouting slightly before leaning towards the bedrooms. “Whoever’s not here in the next ten seconds donates their breakfast to me!” he yelled out, smirking in satisfaction as he heard the scrambling of four other kids to get to the table. They knew Greg meant it when he said he would eat their breakfasts. Sure enough, ten seconds later the six of them were at the table and saying sleepy ‘good morning’s to each other.

They didn’t say much after that, instead focused on eating their pancakes, which were absolutely delicious, just like anything else their mum made for them. About halfway through, their mother sighed happily, smiling up at them. “It’s so nice to have my ducklings all together again. Honestly, you’ve been gone far too long, Greg. You’ve gotten so big while you were away! You look more like your father everyday.”

“I’ll be back again in a few weeks for Christmas, Mum.” Greg reassured her, smiling gently at her. “And I promise I’ll do my very best to stop growing while I’m away. So long as every time I come back I get delicious breakfasts like this one. Deal?”

She laughed, nodding. “Of course, love. I’ll always have food ready for you when you come back home. You just have to make sure to come back often.”

“I could never stay away, Mum. By the way, I’m having a friend together later. Mycroft. Remember I told you about him in our phone calls? Is that all right?” he asked, leaving out the part where he and Mycroft were boyfriends.

Marie nodded, grinning brightly. “Of course it’s all right! I’d love to meet your friends, Greg. When is he coming over?”

Greg explained that they were meeting up at noon and spending a while together before coming back. His mother of course agreed, excited at the thought of meeting one of Greg’s school friends. The twins teased him briefly about being careful that the poshness wouldn’t rub off on him and Greg glared at them until they stopped. Ryan - who, while Greg had never formally come out to him, knew that he was gay - gave him a knowing look, but also knew better than to say anything out loud in front of their mother, who Greg wasn’t quite ready to come out to yet. It wasn’t that he was afraid she’d be unaccepting, no, Greg was quite sure she’d take it well, it was just a daunting, overwhelming task to think of. One he wanted to hold off on just a little while longer.

Breakfast was over soon enough and the twins were given the task of helping their mother do the dishes, leaving Greg free to fret over what he was going to wear on his date with Mycroft today. He’d changed his outfit three times when Ryan came into the room, gave him one look over, and burst out laughing as he sat on the edge of his bed. “How many times have you changed clothes, Greg?” he asked. “You’re worse than a teenage girl!”

Greg shifted his weight from foot to foot, looking down at his Converse and feeling incredibly awkward. “This is only the third one…” he mumbled, tugging at the sleeves of the shirt. “Three’s not a lot, is it?”

“I’m sure ‘Mycroft’ or whatever would much prefer you in no clothes at all, so anything you wear will be second best to him.” Ryan teased, grinning wickedly. “So just wear whatever you want.”

Greg scowled, taking his shirt off and throwing it over in Ryan’s direction, pleased when it hit him square in the face. “Git! When you have a girlfriend, you’ll understand. Well… If you ever have a girlfriend. I doubt anyone would ever be stupid enough to date you.” he said, smirking. His face turned serious after a thought. “I don’t have to tell you that this stays between us for the moment, do I?”

Ryan waved him off, nodding. “Yeah, I know. I dunno why you don’t just tell Mum, though. It’s not like she’d mind.” he pointed out, shrugging.

“I know…” He sighed as he rummaged through his drawers, searching for the well worn Green Day t-shirt his best friend had given him earlier that year. “It’s just a bit intimidating, that’s all. I’ll tell her soon enough. I promise.”

“You don’t ever have to tell anyone ever for all I care, I just don’t want you to feel unnecessarily uncomfortable or like anyone’s going to have a problem with it. Because at least among the family, we won’t care. And anyone who does can piss off.”

Greg laughed softly as he slipped the shirt on over his head, looking in the mirror briefly to make sure he looked all right. He still had to do his hair, but it was only eleven. He had a bit longer to take care of that. “Eloquent as always, Ryan. But thank you. I’ll keep that in mind. You’ll meet him today, hopefully. Be nice, all right?”

“I’ll be nice after I give him the usual ‘you hurt him, I break your face’ talk.” Ryan promised. “Now go make yourself pretty for Mikey. I know you’re dying to go to the bathroom and spend twenty minutes fixing your hair.”

Greg glared at him as he went to the bathroom to do just that. In the end, he spent less than fifteen minutes working on his hair, which he felt was quite impressive considering how worried he was about going out with Mycroft. It would be the first time they met up for a proper date. While they were at school, they’d sometimes gone off to town to spend the weekend days together, but there’d always been the unspoken worry that Siger might have been passing through town and see them being overly affectionate together, so they behaved more like friends than anything else in those outings. London was a big city and the chances of Siger running into them by accident were slim to none, meaning they could finally act like a proper couple. They could even hold hands together while they walked! The thought made him absolutely giddy.

He exchanged a few texts with Mycroft to decide on a meeting spot and was on his way about a quarter to noon. Their date was just a simple outing, but Greg was sure it was one of the best days of his life. They’d met up at a park and gone off to a nearby cafe to share a cup of tea together. They hadn’t done much after that. Just stroll through the city and talk. Holding the hands and sharing chaste kisses all the while. Greg had loved every second of it. But through their entire time together, he hadn’t been able to shake the worry off how Mycroft would react to his rundown little flat. A few hours after meeting up, a few minutes after three, they started heading towards Greg’s flat. As the streets around them deteriorated more and more and started looking more like Greg’s neighborhood, Greg stopped them at a corner, turning so he’d be facing Mycroft.

“Look… My… I dunno what your house looks like, obviously, but your family’s obviously got a lot of money so it must be pretty fantastic. Mine’s… not.” Greg started, rubbing at the back of his neck self consciously. “Mine’s more along the lines of what a widowed mother of five can afford. And… It’s not very big and the neighborhood is less than appealing and it’s only got two bedrooms for the whole lot of us and… and… Well, I guess I just wanted to warn you. It’s probably a far cry from what you’re used to and if you’d rather not go, I won’t take it personally.” There. He’d said it. That was over and done with.

Mycroft frowned, taking Greg’s hands in his and squeezing them gently. “Greg… Is that why you looked so worried all afternoon? I don’t care where you live, love. You and your family could live in a box on a street corner and I would still prefer being there than to home because it has you. And I love you. Not where you live. All right? So no more worrying, dear.” he said, pressing a kiss to Greg’s forehead.

Greg breathed out a long sigh of relief, nodding. “All right, My. I love you too. Thank you. I was… worried, I’ll admit. We just… We haven’t had a lot of money since Dad and… yeah…” He’d never told Mycroft everything about his father, but he was sure the other boy had deduced it by now.

“There’s no need to apologize nor explain yourself. Now, I do believe your mother and siblings are waiting for us, aren’t they?” Mycroft pointed out with a soft smile. The one that only Greg ever got to see. 

Greg nodded, taking Mycroft’s hand in his as they started to walk again. Really, he didn’t know why he’d ever worried. This was Mycroft they were talking about. Perhaps with someone else it would have been worth worrying. But Mycroft? No, Greg knew that the side of Mycroft he got to see was too caring to let something like income get between the two of them.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: All right so I know you were expecting Mycroft - Lestrade Family interactions in this chapter, and I did promise, but it sort of got away from me and this week (the tenth to the seventeenth) I’m on a school trip (I’m actually writing this on a plane) and I had almost all of this written and my computer crashed so I had to start again and the fourteenth is Valentine’s Day and my girlfriend’s birthday and the seventeenth is my birthday, so as you can tell, things have been a bit hectic for me. Next chapter will, without a doubt, have Mycroft-Lestrade interactions, I swear. It’ll also have another flashback tidbit, though I’m not a hundred percent sure yet what it’ll be off. It’ll either be one of Greg’s parents meeting for the first time or little Greg and his dad playing football together. I guess you’ll see next chapter! xD Thank you for reading and putting up with me extremely odd updating schedule, you guys rock! Thank you for all the reviews and favorites and everything! :) Love you guys :3


	13. In Which Ryan is Upset About the Snogging

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: There’s some Mycroft POV in this! :D And there’s a few passing lines later on in the chapter that could be a bit triggery for eating disorders, so tread with caution if that’s a possible trigger

As they neared Greg’s flat, Mycroft walked a bit nearer to Greg, feeling out of place and out of his element in his collared shirt, trousers, and braces. He was sure that nothing would happen to him with Greg walking next to him so confidently, but he still couldn’t help but feel a little intimidated. He was well aware of how the people living in these flats would look at him. He was just a spoiled, rich teenager born with a silver spoon in his mouth.

Greg squeezed his hand gently and even though the rational side of his mind told him that he should still be worried, he couldn’t help but relax significantly, feeling the nerves practically wash off him. He had Greg with him. Sweet, sweet Greg who wouldn’t let anyone hurt him. Not a street thug, not any boy at school, and Mycroft was sure that Greg wouldn’t even let his father ever hurt him if he was ever there… Mycroft tried to push those thoughts out of his mind - as hard as it was for him to try to not think. He was with Greg. He was supposed to be happy and having a good time. Not worried about what might be waiting for him back home.

“Well, here we are.” Greg said, pulling them over to the front of an apartment building. “It’s the fifth floor. C’mon,”  

Mycroft followed him up the stairs, wondering briefly if having so many stairs to go up to his flat was what kept Greg so fit. He felt just a tad bit out of breath when he reached the top of the stairs and he was certainly very embarrassed that a few stairs had gotten him like this. He really did need to get some more exercise. Greg noticed how his breathing was ever so slightly labored and laughed.

“It’s a lot of stairs. I know.” he sympathized as he pulled his key out of his back pocket and opened the door. “Mum? I’m home with Mycroft.” he called out, gesturing for Mycroft to step inside.

Mycroft took the few seconds to look around a bit. It was certainly small, though Greg had already warned him of that. Mycroft was sure he could probably fit the entire living room into his bedroom back home and still have room to spare. As small and admittedly cramped the living room looked - and likely the rest of the flat - it was full of family pictures and blankets and toys and while Mycroft wasn’t sure if he could ever live here without feeling like he didn’t have enough space, he was sure that it was a much nicer place than his own manor. Unlike his house, this flat actually looked lived in and like it was a home and not just a house.

A little girl that Mycroft assumed was Greg’s sister came running forward before his mother did, grinning brightly and jumping up into his boyfriend’s arms. “Greggie! Mummy and I missed you this morning!” she said in rapid French, though Mycroft knew enough of the language to keep up.

Greg chuckled softly, bopping her on the nose. “English now, Lilybug. We have a guest.” he said, gesturing over to Mycroft. “He’s my friend I told you about.”

Lily giggled and nodded. “He’s a ginger. Like me!” she exclaimed happily. “I’m gonna call you Mikey.” she declared with a firm nod.

Mycroft didn’t have the heart to complain about the nickname so he simply nodded. “Of course. You may call me anything you like. Greg’s told me so much about you. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”

“You too, Mikey!” She squirmed out of her brother’s arms so she could approach Mycroft and look him up and down. “Greggie talked and talked and talked and talked all ‘bout you yesterday. I suppose he was right. You’re the good type of boy, Mikey. The type without cooties.” Lily decided.

It was Greg’s turn to blush and he pulled her closer, slapping a hand over her mouth so she wouldn’t keep talking. “There’s… no need to keep talking about that, Lil. Is Mummy in the room? Why don’t you go ask her to come out here?” he asked, gently nudging her in that direction.

“All right! The twins left with some of their stupid friends and Ryan’s sulking in his room, but I’ll make him come over with me an’ Mummy.” she promised before rushing off to gather her mother and older brother.

Greg chuckled sheepishly. “I’m sorry about her. She doesn’t know when to shut her mouth.” he apologized with a fond smile.

Mycroft couldn’t be upset, it was too cute for that. Only embarrassed a bit as he nodded. “It’s okay, love. It was sweet.” he assured him. “May I sit down?” he asked, gesturing to a sofa that looked rather well worn.

“Of course you can!” he nodded, moving to sit down next to him. “Sorry, I should have offered. Just a bit nervous is all,” he said with an uneven chuckle, yet another sign to his nerves.  “My little sister loves you. That’s a good sign.”

“She seems like a lovely little girl.” Mycroft said, smiling. He sometimes wished that Sherlock had been more friendly and sociable like Greg’s sister seemed to be. He was sure it would have made for an entirely different relationship between the two of them. Not that he could complain. He wasn’t very different either. Greg was just the very rare exception to the rule.  

Lily returned after a few moments with her mother in tow. Mycroft smiled when he saw how similar Lily was to Greg’s mother and he got to his feet, smoothing out his shirt and holding his hand out for his boyfriend’s mother. “Good afternoon, Mrs. Lestrade. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Lily giggled. “I told you he was really posh, Mummy.” she said, stifling her giggles in her mother’s skirt.

Mycroft blushed at that comment, unsure if he should be embarrassed or not, but didn’t have much time to react at all before his boyfriend’s mother spoke up. “Now, Lily, that’s not a very nice thing to say. I’m sorry about her, Mycroft. She never knows when to keep quiet.”

“It’s perfectly all right, Mrs. Lestrade.” Mycroft said, still feeling a tad bit uncomfortable. “Greg’s told me so much about you.”

“And he never shuts up about you when he calls home.” she agreed, laughing. Greg blushed madly and gave a half hearted, mumbled complaint about his mother revealing so much information.

Greg got to his feet quickly, grabbing Mycroft’s hand and all but dragging him along to his bedroom. “Well, now that you’ve met Myc, we’re all set. Love you, Mum! Bye!” he said, pulling. Mycroft into his bedroom and closing the door behind him. Mycroft thought it was all rather amusing and incredibly heartwarming how well Greg got along with his family and how they could joke around like this. Interactions like this were all but nonexistent in his home.

There were two beds in the room and Mycroft couldn’t be entirely sure which one was Greg’s, but he took a guess and sat down on the one with the endearingly childish Chelsea FC bedsheets. He still wasn’t entirely sure what the big difference between Chelsea and Arsenal and Madrid and Barcelona was, but Greg had gotten into several heated, passionate arguments about it with Thomas about it. Mycroft distinctly remembered the times that he’d been coerced via puppy eyes to insist that Madrid and Chelsea were the two best teams - though he’d had no idea what either of the teams really did - so he was quite sure that the Barcelona bedsheets on the other bed didn’t belong to his Greg. Sure enough, Greg sat down next to him on top of the Chelsea duvet.

“Bloody traitor, Ryan is.” Greg said, gesturing to the bed on the other side of the bed. “You’ll be meeting him later. The twins, too. Don’t reckon you’ll like them as much as Lily - they’re a bit annoying. But they’re family, nonetheless.”

“As long as they are your family, I’m sure I’ll love them.” Mycroft assured him, taking Greg’s hand in his and lifting it up to his lips to press a kiss to his knuckles.

Greg smiled, blushing just a bit at the affection. “I hope you do. They’re good boys. Annoying, but good. I’m afraid you’ll have to put up with a bit of teasing on their part, but they mean well.”

“I’ve managed to handle Sherlock for eight years. I’m sure I’ll be fine with your brothers.” he promised, chuckling softly. Greg’s brothers couldn’t be that bad, he was sure. They may have been the normal, rowdy type of children, but Sherlock was ten times worse, he was sure. At the very least, Greg’s younger siblings wouldn’t decide they wanted to do a chemistry experiment and then blow up an entire bedroom.

Greg smiled, leaning closer to Mycroft. “That’s enough talk of little brothers, don’t you think?” he murmured, so close now that Mycroft could feel his breath on his lips. Mycroft nodded, wrapping his arms around Mycroft’s waist and pulling him in for a kiss. He let Greg push him backwards onto the bed and very happily kissed him back. It was strange to think that just a few months earlier when school had started, Mycroft hadn’t been able to stand to Greg. Just written him off as some chav from East London or something equally horrid. Mycroft couldn’t have been happier that he’d given Greg a chance. He would have missed out on so much if he had never gotten Greg in his life.

“Thinking too much, love…” Greg murmured, laying kisses along his jaw and straddling his hips.

Mycroft laughed. “Am I? Am I supposed to just not be thinking of anything, then?” he asked teasingly. Greg very well knew that he couldn’t just stop thinking whenever he wanted to. Life would have been a lot easier if he could.

“No… Not that much.” he said, shaking his head. “Just a little less. Though in your defence, I tend to think that any time we’re kissing and you think of anything other than me is too much thinking.” Greg teased, laughing.

Mycroft rolled his eyes. “Ego,” he murmured, leaning closer and nipping at Greg’s jaw. Greg laughed that lovely laugh and Mycroft felt almost as though he were falling in love all over again.  

They continued kissing, growing more and more passionate as the minutes went by. Mycroft wound up being pushed back completely against the bed until he was laying down, with Greg straddling his hips. Mycroft placed his hands on Greg’s waist, holding him in place as they kissed. He could feel Greg’s hands creeping up the edge of his shirt and normally, Mycroft would have protested at this point, but the last time he’d eaten had been their last breakfast together when school had let out, two days earlier, so he didn’t feel completely horrible about himself at the moment. He could tolerate a few touches from Greg, especially when Greg’s touches were all so soft and warm and lovely. Mycroft couldn’t think of anywhere else he’d rather be, but laying here while being kissed and touched by his boyfriend.

And just as suddenly as the moment had started, it was ruined, by the door opening and a gagging noise, from what he had to assume was one of Greg’s brothers. “Oh, that’s fucking gross. Quit snoggin’ in my room!” he yelled, grabbing his pillow and tossing it at Greg’s head, who sat up and glared at him.

“My room too, twat!” Greg snapped, grabbing his own pillow and throwing it back as he got off of Mycroft’s hips. Mycroft was quick to sit up and straighten out his trousers and hair. “And next time, you genius, it might do you good to knock before coming in when the bloody door is closed!”

Mycroft felt a bit awkward, sitting there throughout all of this and wondering whether or not it would be appropriate to interrupt or to apologize to Greg’s brother. In the end, he decided not to. He didn’t know the boy well enough to know if it would go over well or not. He trusted Greg could handle it just fine on his own. It was remarkable, really, how different his boyfriend acted around his brother. The two were currently still hurling insults at each other. It was obvious that neither of them meant it, simply insulting each other in some strange form of brotherly bonding. He and Sherlock never acted like this, rarely even interacted these days to be honest, so Mycroft couldn’t really say he understood. The snapping back and forth was interrupted by Mrs. Lestrade.

“Stop fighting!” she yelled from off in the living room. “We have a guest. Behave!” There was very obviously an unsaid ‘don’t make me go in there and interfere or you’ll regret it’ left hanging in the air, understood by both boys, who quieted down.

“Myc, this is Ryan. My stupid little brother. Ryan, this is Mycroft.” Greg said, gesturing at the two of them in some vague form of introduction.

Ryan nodded, patting Mycroft’s shoulder and completely ignoring the hand the ginger had extended towards him. “Well, nice to meet ya, Myc. For future reference, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t snog when you know I’ll be coming home soon.”

Mycroft blushed, damning his paleness and hair for making it all the more obvious. “Right. Um, I apologize, Ryan.” he said, not even bothering to correct him on the ‘Myc’. Only Greg was allowed to call him Myc. He could correct that on some other day. Not when the poor boy had walked in on his brother and his boyfriend snogging and practically dry humping in his bedroom.

“I’m sure it won’t happen again,” Ryan said, rolling his eyes. He turned to Greg. “Mum told me to tell you that the twins are gonna be here in half an hour or so and then we’re going to have dinner. I’m going to go help her, so you go back to… your kissing or whatever.” he said, making a face and then quickly exiting the room, closing the door behind him.

“He’s a prick.” Greg said, wrinkling his nose in distaste. His eyes still shone with affection and care, though, and Mycroft knew that as annoying as they could get, Greg still cared for his younger siblings deeply and beyond belief. Mycroft could relate.

He shrugged. “But he’s family, so… you have to love him.” Mycroft pointed out, though he knew that Greg didn’t need to be told twice. The look in his eyes was enough for Mycroft to know that he already knew this.

“He may be an annoying, insufferable little git, but he’s my annoying, insufferable little git.” Greg agreed, nodding with a small smile. He turned back to Mycroft, his affectionate smile turning into a playful smirking. “So… He did say we should go back to our kissing thing.” Greg pointed out, grinning.

Mycroft laughed, though he complied and leaned forward to kiss him again. Greg pushed him backwards onto the bed again and soon enough, they were back in the same position they had been in before Ryan had walked in. It felt a bit awkward, knowing that he and Greg were snogging when Greg’s mother and two of his siblings were just a few meters away in the kitchen, but any worries quickly disappeared under Greg’s lips. They always seemed to wind up like this, on some bed and snogging like the terribly stereotypical teenagers they were, but Mycroft couldn’t seem to mind. There was nowhere else he’d rather be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I… don’t even have an excuse for this. I do hope you enjoyed the chapter, however late it is and that you enjoyed that it was a bit longer than usual. Not enough to make up for the lateness, but a bit. As always when I mess up like this, you’re more than welcome to ask for an explanation and/or rant at me, I just don’t want to take up space here whining about why I was late. Thank you for reading and sticking with me despite how long it took! Happy late Easter!


	14. In Which They Have Dinner

 

They snogged for a short while longer before Greg decided that they should go join his family in the living room, lest Ryan decide to tease them for spending so long in the bedroom. Greg knew that his mother was under no illusions as to what he and Mycroft were up to, but that didn’t mean that he wanted his little brother announcing it to the world.  Especially not with how crude Ryan could be at times. He knew how it would end - with Lily asking questions like ‘what does shag mean?’ and their mother glaring at him and Ryan - and it wasn’t pretty.

After they’d stopped with their snogging, they paused for a moment to compose  themselves and look, well, like they hadn’t just been snogging and dry humping on his bed. Mycroft mumbled a huffed comment under his breath about Greg ruining his hair, but Greg assured him that it was fine and that it wasn’t going to be his hair that gave away what they were doing. He took Mycroft’s hand in him, going outside to the table and helping his mother set the plates before sitting down.

“Well, I hope you two enjoyed your time together…” Ryan said teasingly, smirking at them.

This earned him a scowl from Mycroft and Greg and a disapproving look from their mother. “Now, now, Ryan. Behave.” Marie chided gently. Ryan laughed, but didn’t say anything more.  

Dinner was ready and they were now just waiting on the twins to arrive, since his mother had always had a rather strict rule of not eating unless everybody was at the table. Ryan was fidgeting a bit, eager to start eating and stealing quick bites of his food while their mother wasn’t looking. Greg was fine with waiting, though. He was happy just listening to his mother and Mycroft make small talk about school and family, though Greg did notice that Mycroft skimmed over questions about his parents and usually just changed the subject back to his schoolwork and grades. They didn’t have to wait long. Only five or so minutes later, the twins trudged in, laughing and talking loudly amongst themselves like they usually did. They both pretty much ignored Mycroft in favor of plopping down on the table, still sweaty from whatever they had been playing with their friends. Their mother gave them both a look.

“Boys! Your brother’s friend has been waiting for you to have dinner and you couldn’t even wash up a bit before sitting down?” she scolded. She made a shooing motion with her hand. “Go. Wash up a bit and then come back.”

Both boys grumbled as they got up, mumbling a hello to Mycroft before trudging over to the bathroom to wash some of the sweat and mud off their faces. Mycroft turned to Greg and leaned a bit closer to whisper in his ear. “Er… how do you tell them apart?”

Greg laughed, shaking his head. “You don’t, Myc. You just don’t. They’re usually together anyway, so I tend to just consider them one person instead of two.” he shrugged. “Mum can tell them apart, though I don’t know how.”

His mother overheard and rolled her eyes fondly. “I gave birth to them. Of course I can tell them apart.”

Ryan, being the immature fourteen year old he was, made a face at the thought of their mother giving birth to them. The twins came back to the table and sat down again, sitting next to each other across from Greg and Mycroft. Lily eagerly asked them questions about what they’d done and who they’d hung out with. They may have just been ten, but in the eyes of a six year old, ten years old was incredibly old and incredibly cool. Greg just sort of found it adorable, not that he’d say it out loud. The three of them would probably protest to being called adorable and try to kill him in his sleep.

Now that they were all there, they said grace as their mother always insisted they did, though it was more of an improvised, half hearted, casual thing, than a memorized, scripted prayer. Mycroft looked rather confused through the entire thing, so Greg guessed that his parents probably weren’t too religious. Not that his mother was, either. They usually went to church once or twice a month, but his parents had been raised in rather religious, go-to-church-every-Sunday type of family and that had stuck with the loose traditions that his mother passed onto them. Their father too, when he’d been alive.

After their mumbled, admittedly hasty prayer of grace, they finally started eating. The twins and Ryan ate like anyone might expect three hungry teenage boys to, while Mycroft, of course, ate like own would expect the prince to . Greg paced himself simply because he knew Mycroft was watching and he didn’t want to seem uneducated. Several times, Mycroft looked as though he was trying to start conversation or make small talk or something, but his meek attempts at starting to talk were all very quickly trumped by the twins very loudly deciding that they needed to tell Greg some new story they’d thought of or Lily coming up with a story of her own or Ryan’s two word sentences, that for someone his age, definitely counted as a long, full blown out story.  When dinner was nearing a close, Greg felt a bit bad about all of Mycroft’s failed attempts and hushed his brothers when they interrupted Mycroft once again and their mother scolded them for not giving Mycroft a chance to talk. Now that they’d all quieted down to give Mycroft a chance to talk, it seemed that Mycroft couldn’t think of a single thing to say, as he turned bright red and stumbled over his words as he tried to find something to say. It was rather amazing how Mycroft, who was usually so well spoken and could win any sort of argument with a handful of words, could turn in to such a shy, stuttering mess when put into a social situation like this.

Greg spared him from any more of the shy stuttering by jumping in and making a comment about how Mycroft got practically perfect grades and could probably help Ryan and the twins - Lily didn’t get any work aside from the occasional worksheet to color in - with any work they had over the break. The boys didn’t look very happy at the mention of school work, but their mother seemed to love it and she went on for a few minutes about how Mycroft seemed like a lovely young man and how good of an influence he’d been on Greg and how she hoped he had as good an effect on her other kids. Mycroft looked more than glad to have someone else take over the talking again. Regardless of how great Mycroft was at debating or any sort of talking that had to do with politics, he was rather rubbish at social gatherings. He’d started getting better with Thomas and the others back at school, but obviously that was still just the exception. When they’d all finished eating, Mycroft was the first one to stand up, grabbing his empty plate and waiting for Greg to do the same so he could follow his lead and drop it in the sink. Greg was happy to see that Mycroft had eaten everything. He supposed that part of it had to do with not wanting to seem rude with Greg’s mother by leaving food behind. Whatever the reason was, Greg was glad to see it. He excused himself with his mother, going back to his room with Mycroft. Ryan made a face and opened his mouth, likely to make some inappropriate comment, but a look from their mother quickly stopped that in its tracks. Greg took Mycroft’s hand in his and went to his room with him, closing the door behind them and sitting down.

“I suppose you’ll have to go home soon.” Greg said, sighing a bit. He’d gotten so used to having Mycroft around all the time or, at most, across the hall, that he just wasn’t used to having to say goodbye for days or maybe even the remainder of their time off from school. Greg was rather sure that Siger Holmes was the type of man who would put his children under lockdown over holidays and make them do nothing but study or something else equally intellectual.

Mycroft’s face fell and he nodded, squeezing Greg’s hand ever so slightly. “Yes… Father expects me home…” He looked down at his wristwatch and winced. “Well, in about twenty minutes.”

“I suppose you’ll be late then…” Greg mumbled, suppressing a wince of his own on Mycroft’s behalf. “I’m sorry, love. I didn’t mean to keep you here for so long. I hope your father won’t give you too much trouble.” he offered gently. He knew Mycroft’s father wasn’t the nicest of men. He could tell from the way he ran the school and also from the way Mycroft always seemed to trail off or change the subject if he was brought up. It always worried Greg, but he figured that if there was anything truly terrible or harmful about the man, that Mycroft would bring it up or tell him. So regardless of how much of an arse Siger Holmes could be, Greg assumed there wasn’t much to worry about in terms of physical harm.

“It’s fine.” Mycroft sighed, standing up and straightening out his trousers. “I really should get going, though. Thank you for having me over. It really has been lovely, Gregory.” he said, pulling his boyfriend into a hug and kissing his cheek. “Will I see you again this week? Or will I have to wait until school starts again?”

“Just give me a call or text or something if you want to meet up. I’ll make time for you, love.” he promised. Greg kissed him one last time and then opened his bedroom door for Mycroft. he figured that his boyfriend probably wasn’t going to want to walk through his neighborhood alone at night - probably hadn’t even wanted to in broad daylight - so Greg walked him to the nearest tube station, holding onto his hand the entire time. There, Greg stole one last quick kiss before letting go of Mycroft’s hand and stepping back. Greg made him promise to text when he arrived home before finally leaving to walk back to his flat.

Mycroft had already been late when he and Greg had arrived at the station, so Greg figured that his boyfriend would probably be at least thirty or forty minutes late by the time he arrived at his home. He only hoped that Mycroft wouldn’t get into too much trouble over it, since most of it was Greg’s fault for keeping him so long. He tried not to worry about it too much, though, and had already pushed it to the back of his mind when he arrived back at his flat.

By the time Greg got home, his sister was already in the room she shared with the twins, playing with her things for a while before it was time to start getting ready for bed. The twins were in their room as well, huddled up on Jack’s bed and watching some mindless action film on an old, secondhand portable dvd player. Ryan was catching up on homework in his and Greg’s room. Their mother was in the living room, tidying up. She smiled at her eldest son when he walked into their flat.

“Your friend is sweet.” she said, watching as Greg closed the door and locked up. “I like him.”

Greg smiled at her as he put his house keys up on the key ring. “I like him too, Mum.” he said, giving her a good night kiss on the cheek before retreating into his bedroom. He mumbled a good night to Louis and laid on his bed, scrolling through his phone to keep himself busy while he waited for Mycroft to text that he was home. He waited two hours before deciding that Mycroft wasn’t going to text and, with a heavy heart, giving up and just going to sleep. He’d text Mycroft in the morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Will I ever not be a slow updater? That is the question. I do hope you enjoyed this update, though. Regardless of the wait. I swear I work on this every day and that I always have the tab open. I’m just a bit slow at it. Only a few words at a time with the occasional bout of hardcore inspiration that has me writing lots of paragraphs and hundreds of words. Again, I hope this chapter was worth the wait and that you all enjoyed it. And for those of you on summer vacation already, enjoy your summer!


	15. In Which Mycroft Is A Dick (Again)

Greg had texted Mycroft the next morning. A brief message. Just a quick question of whether or not he'd gotten home okay. He hadn't received an answer. It had been a few days now and they were due to go back to school in just a few minutes, but still no word from Mycroft. It was terribly disheartening, as Greg was sure that Mycroft had taken one look at his home and family and decided that Greg wasn't worth his time. His mother had noticed a decrease in Greg's talk about Mycroft, but knew better than to question it.

It was an incredible blow to his confidence and he almost didn't want to go back to school. He'd had a hard enough time growing comfortable enough with the handful of friends he had. Now he doubted he'd be able to spend any time at all with them without always having his wealth and social status in the back of his mind. After all, if even Mycroft, who had promised time and time again that it didn't matter, had left after seeing where he was from, why would any of the other boys stay if they ever found out?

He'd been very obviously not as cheerful the last few days of his week off, but his mother and siblings knew better than to question it. Greg had a bad habit of being a bit snappy when he was upset and moping. He spent the better half of his week off like this, upset that Mycroft had never replied. It wasn't until the day before he was supposed to go back to school, in the middle of packing his bags, that Mycroft texted again.

_I apologize. I've been busy. - MH_

_I hope you are well. - MH_

Greg had to sit down for a minute while he tried to think of something to reply. He wanted to be furious. After all, Mycroft had basically ignored him for the last few days. But it was still Mycroft. And it was hard to ignore Mycroft. No matter how upset he had made him. He sat down and typeout a reply.

_Hey. I'm fine. What about you? Went sorta MIA for a while. - GL_

Mycroft's reply arrived just a few moments later.

_Ah, yes. I apologize. My schoolwork had me busy. - MH_

_You know how I am. - MH_

Greg had a feeling that it was probably something more serious than that, but he didn't question it. Not over text, anyway. If anything, he'd ask Mycroft when they were back in school together. Regardless of what had happened, he just wished Mycroft hadn't left him wondering for so long. For now he just sighed as he replied to Mycroft's text.

_Well, alright, I guess. Have you finished packing yet? - GL_

_I didn't bring too many stuff with me from school. Just enough clothing to last the week. I live nearby either way and Father spends most of his time on campus. - MH_

_Ah. Makes sense I suppose. Is that where you've been? With your da on campus? - GL_

_No, I've been at home with my mother and brother. But it's really only a few minutes away from school. So it's as if I never left. - MH_

_That sucks. Sort of ruins the purpose of going away on vacation. - GL_

_It's hardly a vacation if it's only a week. Besides I've been busy with schoolwork. - MH_

_Was there schoolwork assigned? I didn't do any. - GL_

_It was my independent studies. - MH_

Leave it to Mycroft to assign himself homework over the break. It was a very Mycroft-like thing to do. Greg wouldn't even dream of doing any more work than he had to. More often than not, it would interfere with his football schedule, which was the last thing he wanted. After all, his football was what was getting him to most places. He doubted he'd be at school with Mycroft if it wasn't because of how he played (even though they'd never admit it at the admissions office) and he was rather sure that he'd only get into uni on a sports scholarship, wherever that may be. He couldn't afford to be picky about where he studied. He'd be lucky if he studied at all.

He couldn't think of how to reply to Mycroft's text - he was still bitter, even if he had replied to the initial text - so he left it at that and resumed packing. He packed his shoes when he was done with the rest of his clothes, noticing that his cleats were already beginning to show some wear. They'd have to last him at least until Christmas, though.

He sighed as he taped up the bottom of the sole and packed them with his bag. After setting the bag to a side, he laid down across his bed. It was still only six, but he was exhausted. He'd spent his day with his old friends, playing football at the park and telling them about Mycroft. He knew Mycroft didn't want anyone knowing because of the risk of his father finding out, but he knew that his friends, all living well below the poverty line and in the same dingy, East London neighborhood as he did, weren't ever going to meet Siger Holmes or anyone close to him. People like Siger Holmes didn't interact with people like Greg and his friends.

They'd all found it hysterical that Greg had found himself a posh, proper boy like Mycroft. Greg was, after all, quite the opposite of posh and proper. He'd just shrugged it off and reminded them that opposites attract. They'd demanded couple pictures next time he was around and then gone back to playing football. Things were usually that simple among them. It was a welcome change from school, where it seemed that everyone's family held generations long grudges with some other family. It was the stuff you'd expect to find in a movie or a television show. Sometimes Greg liked to joke that it was like being on Game of Thrones, but none of the other boys liked that joke very much.

He was almost regretful to be leaving his home and going back school, but he was also excited to see Mycroft again. And to go back to playing on the football team. The matches weren't the hardest, but he always got a chance to shine but which was good considering that rich kids like this often had their families and family friends at games . The same family friends who probably had enough connections to get him playing on a professional team. He highly doubted something like that was going to happen, but it was never bad to hope and hope he did.

Eventually, he fell asleep to thoughts of football. When he woke up again, it was half past two in the morning and his stomach was growling incessantly. His mum must have come by at some point because his light had been turned off and his fan had been turned. Yawning, he sat up and turned on his lamp. Ryan, asleep on the bed on the other side of the room, mumbled a protest and turned to face the wall so the light wouldn't bother him as much. Greg shuffled out of the room quietly and went to the kitchen, checking in the fridge for something to eat. He found a tupperware container of leftovers from dinner and put them onto a plate to reheat. His mother had made his absolute favorite dinner and he was as giddy as a five year old as he waited for the microwave to count down to zero. He stopped it with a few minutes to go so he wouldn't wake anyone and moved the plate onto the table, cursing under his breath at how hot it had gotten.

He sat down to start eating, finding that it was just as good reheated as it probably had been a few hours before when his mother had finished making it. He was halfway through eating when he heard someone shuffle into the kitchen behind him. He turned and smiled when he saw him mum.

"It's late. You should be sleeping." he pointed out to her.

She sat down across from him, shaking her head with a fond smile. "So should you. Got hungry, my little duckling?"

"I sort of slept through dinner." he pointed out with an apologetic shrug. "Sorry about that."

"It's all right. You were tired. I understand." she assured him.

Greg finished eating and stood up, taking the plate to the sink and washing it off. "Thanks for dinner, Mum. Even if it is a bit late."

"It's no problem." She stood up and stood next to him on the sink, taking the plate and utensils from him and washing them off for him. "Now get some rest." She kissed his cheek and then started going back to her room.

"Good night, Mum." he said, retreating to his bedroom as well. He turned off the lamp again and lay in bed. He was still wide awake, but there wasn't much to do except scroll on his phone for a while. Eventually, he fell asleep again. He woke up again early the next morning, immediately falling into a bad mood when he realized he'd be leaving home that day. It wasn't that he didn't want to see Mycroft again, he just wished it could always be lie that night when Mycroft had come over and he'd gotten to spend time with the two most important set of people in his life. Mycroft and his family. Mycroft had obviously not liked that very much, though, so Greg had a feeling he'd be picking between the two on the next holiday. He knew that he'd pick his family. How could he not? But he just wasn't ready to let Mycroft go. He'd been the only thing keeping him sane during the school days. He just always felt so terribly out of place and Mycroft, as posh as he was, always made him feel like he fit in. He bid goodbye to his family a few hours later and was on a train back to school again. Needing some way to pass the time, he pulled his phone out to text Mycroft again.

_I'm going to take a while guess and say you're in school already? - GL_

_I've been here since last night, yes. Are you on your way? - MH_

_Yeah I am. Bout an hour. Can I expect to have you waiting for me in my dorm room when I get there? ;) - GL_

_I'm afraid I'm a bit busy. But perhaps you can stop by my room before dinner tonight. There's a few things we must discuss. - MH_

That was never good. It was never good to get something from anyone saying that there were things to be discussed. Greg still texted a confirmation that he would be there, but didn't try to continue the conversation after that. it had just killed his very brief good mood to hae Mycroft tell him that they needed to talk. He spent the rest of the train ride worrying and wondering what he could have done that could merit a 'talk'.

When the train arrived, Greg made his way back to his dorm building and to his room, casting a glance at Mycroft's door for a moment before sighing and just going into his room and closing the door behind him. He unpacked the few things he'd brought and then just sat for a while before mustering the courage to go over to Mycroft's room. He knocked on the door and fidgeted there for a few moments before Mycroft opened the door and ushered him inside. When Mycroft closed the door, Greg leaned forward for a kiss, but Mycroft just moved out of the way and sat at his desk while he gestured for Greg to sit on the bed.

Greg sat down, disheartened by how Mycroft had pulled away fro his kiss. "So... What's up?" he asked.

Mycroft sighed and fidgeted with his coat button for a few seconds. "I think that, perhaps, we should spend a bit less time together."

"W-what? What do you mean?" he asked, though there really weren't many ways to interpret that. "Is this because you came by my place?" he asked. It was the only thing he could think of.

Mycroft shook his head and got up to start pacing around his room. "No, no, don't be ridiculous, Gregory. I just think it would be best if perhaps we were seen together a bit less."

Slowly, it started making a bit more sense. "Oh. You... don't want to be seen with me. Okay. I suppose I can sympathize with that." Greg mumbled, rubbing the back. After all, what sort of rich kid wanted to be seen with a poor, gay kid from the slums?

"It's not you Gregory-"

"It's not me, it's you. Yeah. I've heard that one before." he mumbled, sighing. "Whatever. Just... does that mean you want to end it?"

The sheer look of panic on Mycroft's face when he suggested that provided Greg with a small comfort. He shook his head. "No, of course not. I just think that we should perhaps take less risks about being obvious."

"Well… All right, I guess." Greg sighed. He didn't think they were even being that obvious, but Mycroft was the one with his father on campus and he didn't want Mycroft to leave him, even if it meant having to play along with this.

"Good. Well. Perhaps you should be on your way again. No need to spend too long in each other's rooms." Mycroft wasn't even trying to subtle as he kicked him out. He got up and held the door open for Greg, leaving him with no choice but to shuffle out and return to his bedroom. He wanted to slam his dorm room behind him and kick at the wall, ball his hands into fists and punch at something until it broke. But he couldn't bring himself to care. He wasn't even that upset really. Mostly, he just felt sort of… numb. And it was far, far worse than any sort of rage or heartbreak he could imagine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Greg is making some questionable life choices just like I do when I'm supposed to be updating this. Sorry for the wait but I hope you all enjoyed this. Next chapter will time skip a few months to Christmas or so. Hope you enjoyed this despite the wait! :)


	16. In Which Mycroft Shows up at Greg's House

 

The next few months were by far some of the longest in Greg's life . Mycroft had been cold and distant, spending only just enough time with Greg so they saw each other enough to count as being together'. It really didn't feel like that to Greg, though. Lately, he'd been spending more time with the boys in his football team than he did with the Mycroft.  

Mycroft had shied away more and more from Greg's touches, even just simple hugs in the privacy of their dorms. Things didn't seem to be getting any better, in fact they just seemed to be getting worse and worse. As Christmas and the holiday break neared, Greg couldn't help but be disappointed that they'd be ending the semester on such bad terms. Still, Greg didn't want to end things completely . After all, there was still a chance that things would get better. Perhaps Mycroft was just going through a mood. A rather long mood, but a temporary one none the less. Geg had a good feeling that wasn't it, but he could hope.  

On the day before he was meant to go back home again for Christmas, he juggled with the idea of heading to Mycroft's dorm to say goodbye. Mycroft would probably kick him out, but it was worth a try. He finished packing his bags and headed over to Mycroft's dorm, knocking and shoving his hands in his pocket as he waited. Mycroft opened his door, raising an elegant eyebrow when he saw him, but letting him in either way.  

Greg closed the door and gave Mycroft a quick kiss before he could go to the other side of the room and get as far away from Greg as he could.  Mycroft kissed back for only a moment before seeming to catch himself and pull away. He sat down on Mycroft's bed and Mycroft sat at his desk, like had been routine these last few months. Greg picked at a loose thread in his shirt for a while before clearing his throat and starting to talk, since Mycroft was obviously not going to be the one to start.  

"I, uh, came by to say goodbye. For the holidays, I mean." he mumbled, feeling awkward and out of place. Mycroft probably didn't want him there either way. "And to wish you a Happy Christmas. In case we don't talk before then."

Mycroft looked calm and collected, but Greg already knew him well enough - or he liked to think that he knew him well enough - to see that under the facade, he felt just as awkward and out of place as Greg did. "Right. Well, same to you, Gregory. I thank you for stopping by. Now, I believe your train to London departs in less than two hours, does it not?" He checked his watch, though it was obviously more for show than anything else.    

Greg nodded. He could tell when he was being kicked out. "Yes. I do. I'll... see you in January." Before Mycroft could protest, he leaned forward and kissed his cheek. "Bye," he mumbled before hurrying out of the room. It was disheartening that Mycroft didn't seem as troubled by this whole thing.Uncomfortable, yes, but certainly not troubled. Greg had expected it, though, and tried not to let too much of his disappointment show.  

Greg gathered his things and headed out, deciding against a final stop by Mycroft's visit to let him know he was leaving. It was obvious he wasn't wanted there. The train home was a hassle, as the carriages were all filled to the brim with people rushing home for Christmas and the idiots who thought it'd be a good idea to go Christmas shopping in London on the 23rd. When the train finally arrived and Greg stepped out into the cold of the station, he found himself missing the uncomfortable body heat of being caught in such a large crowd. He pulled his jacket tighter around himself, wrapped his scarf around his neck, and shoved his hands in his pocket to keep warm as he started his walk to his flat. Normally, he would splurge on a cab to take him home on a day as cold and unpleasant as this one, but he'd spent most of his spare money on buying Christmas gifts for his family, so he didn't have the spare cash to make the drive home. Hopefully, the heating would be on in his flat when he got there.  

Some twenty minutes later, he got home and happily bounded up the stairs. He unlocked the door and stepped inside, feeling even happier when he saw that the heating was on. "Mum! I'm home!" he called out, grinning brightly as he closed the door and took off his outer clothing.  

Greg's mother came out of the kitchen to greet him, smiling and pulling him into a tight hug. "Oh, it's so good to see you. Have you been bundling up properly? It's been far too cold this year." she said, tutting in concern.  

Greg shrugged sheepishly. "I've been bundling up some." he answered. "Enough not to freeze."

His mother rolled her eyes. "Greggie. You need to bundle up enough to keep warm. What ever am I going to do with you?"  

Greg laughed and shrugged. He kissed her cheek and then went to drop his things off in his room, saying hello to Ryan who was lounging on the bed.  After getting rid of his things and changing into a more comfortable t-shirt and a pair of flannel pyjama pants, he went back outside to sit in the kitchen while his mother cooked. As soon as he sat down, his mother set a mug of still steaming hot chocolate down in front of him. "Drink up. It'll warm you up." she told him.

Greg grinned. "Thanks, Mum." he said, blowing on it to cool it down and then taking a sip. He got up after taking the first sip and fetched the can of whip cream from the fridge and putting a large pyramid of the cream on the top. He took another sip and grinned. "Perfect." he said.

Greg sipped at the hot chocolate while his mother finished with dinner and then had another mugful while they ate their supper together. His siblings were all as happy to see him this time around as they'd been back in October and enjoying dinner with them distracted him from Mycroft for a little while. It was a welcome change from the last few weeks of fretting over what was going to happen between him and Mycroft. After dinner, he stayed up for another few hours, watching a football match with his brothers while his mother got Lily ready for bed.  

Just as the other days when he'd practically moved homes, Greg was already exhausted by eleven. When the football match was over, he bid his brothers goodnight and retreated to the bedroom to call it an early night. While last time, he'd texted Mycroft on the nights when they hadn't been just a hallway away, he didn't bother tonight. It was likely he wouldn't have even gotten a reply.  

Breakfast had been a wonderfully hectic event as his siblings all wanted to go visit friends before the mandatory holiday celebrations with the family started in the evening and his mother was rushing through the morning in order to get to work. Holidays tended to be big days at the family bakery and though his mum never worked on holidays, she always worked until the last minute before. By ten, Greg had the house to himself. He didn't think of what he would have done just a few months earlier with the flat to himself and instead just settled on the couch to watch some telly. All that was playing was holiday movies and sappy Christmas specials, but it was good enough and Greg happily vegetated on the couch until drifting off near noon. He was startle out of his sleep a few hours later by a knock on the door. Probably one of his brothers who had forgotten their house keys.  

"Comin'," he grumbled getting up out of couch and rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. He yawned and went to the door, opening it and starting to scold who he assumed was Ryan for forgetting his keys.  

 

It took him a moment to register that it was not in fact Ryan, but Mycroft who was at his door. Mycroft, bundled up in an expensive looking coat and scarf that didn't hide a bruise along his cheek and a smudge of blood under his lip. His dark red curls were strewn across in various directions and he'd obviously not shaved that morning, evident by the bits of scruff and stubble along his jawline. They both seemed to be frozen in time, just standing there and staring at the other, before a gust of cold air shook Greg out of it and he ushered Mycroft inside, closing the door behind him and helping him get his coat off.  

"I.... I hope you don't mind I came over." Mycroft mumbled, staring down at the ground and fidgeting as he took his gloves off. Gone was the perfect, elegant Mycroft who paraded the corridors at school like he owned the place and in his place was a shy, scared teenager with nowhere to go.  

"Yeah," Greg said softly, sitting down on the couch and pulling Mycroft down so he was sitting next to him. "Of course it's okay. You're always allowed to come by here. It's a shitty place, but it's home." Even after everything, he could never bring himself to turn his back on Mycroft.  

Gently, Greg brought his hand up to Mycroft's face and ran a gentle thumb along the bruise on his cheekbone. It felt wrong to see such a ugly thing on such a beautiful being and it made Greg sick to the stomach to think that he had a pretty good idea as to who had put it there. Mycroft was obviously doing his very best to not flinch away from the touch and Greg moved his hand away so as to not make his boyfriend more uncomfortable than he probably already was. Though Greg was glad that he'd come, he could see that coming to your boyfriend's house with your tail between your legs, after months of ignoring him and putting distance between the two, probably wasn't the easiest of things to do.  

Mycroft sighed and hung his head. "I didn't know where else to go. Father... He's a bit upset." he said, half heartedly gesturing to the bruise on his face.  

Greg frowned, leaning forward and pressing his lips against Mycroft. It was a very unexciting kiss, nothing more than just a press of lips, but it was the first kiss in a long time that felt earnest on both sides and that was enough to make Greg ecstatic. "Did your dad do this?” he asked, frowning. "He can't do this to you, you know? Its wrong..."

Mycroft rolled his eyes. "You don't understand, Gregory. Men like him have enough money and power to do as they like."

"Myc, I don't give a fuck who your dad is or who he knows. "  he said, running tender fingers through Mycroft's hair in what he hoped was a soothing gesture. "No one's allowed to hurt you like this. I don't care if it was the Queen herself."

Mycroft shook his head, nonverbally declaring an end to the subject. Greg wasn't going to let it drop that easily, not this time, and he'd make Mycroft tell him as much as he was willing later, but for now, he just wanted to make Mycroft comfortable. He felt like an idiot to have been blind to this for the last months. Of course, he'd always know that their was something not entirely pleasant about Siger Holmes, but he'd have never thought that it was this bad. Maybe if he'd noticed earlier, this could have been avoided... Now was not the time to think about what if's and Greg cast the thoughts aside so he could focus on Mycroft instead.

"Are you tired? You should lay down for a while." Greg encouraged, standing up. He helped Mycroft get to his feet and then lead him over to his bedroom. They sat down together in Greg's bed and Greg took the chance to get a closer look at the bruise on Mycroft's cheek and the cut on his lip that was bleeding. "Are you hurt anywhere else?" he asked. Mycroft shrugged.  

"Just a few more bruises. " Mycroft answered, gesturing to his toros.  

Greg nodded and got to his feet. "Get some rest for a while. " he said. "I'm going to tell my Mum that you're staying here for Christmas. And get you some tea made."  

Greg expected him to protest, but Mycroft just nodded and took his shoes off before laying down across Greg's bed. Greg went out to the kitchen, setting the kettle on and dialing his mother's number. He had no idea what he was going to say. He couldn't really explain what had happened and why Mycroft was staying without telling her about him and Mycroft being together. He supposed he could, but it would make things unbearably awkward.  

While the water boiled, Greg called his mother. She answered after just a few rings. "Hello, sweetheart. Anything wrong?"  

"Uh... yeah. Something like that. You remember Mycroft right?" he asked, occupying his spare hand with getting the mugs and milk out.  

"Yes, of course I do. He was a sweet boy. I liked him." she said and Greg could hear the smile on her voice.  

Greg decided that was as good a chance as he was going to get. "Well. I like him too. I like him a lot.  Like a lot a lot. And, uh, well, he’s my boyfriend.” he told her. His heart pounded in his chest and his mouth felt dry. Since the first time he’d realized that he was more interested in his football team mates than in girls to just this August when he’d gotten together with Mycroft, this felt like a culmination of all of it. After having been avoiding it for so long, his mum finally knew and it felt like a load off.

“Oh, well, that’s good. He’s a sweet boy.  Good for a son-in-law.” she praised. “Thank you for telling me. Now, was there a reason you called?”

That was very… anticlimactic. Greg couldn’t think of another word for it. He’d worried about this for years, only for his mother to react like she’d just told him that he’d gone out to buy another jug of milk. He’d always assumed that his mother would take it well, but he didn’t think it would be as nonchalant as this. Greg didn’t even know how to respond to that, since the only pre planned speech he had was one where he reminded his mum that he was still her son, even if he was gay. He certainly didn’t have a speech prepared for a reaction like that.

“Oh. Er…” Greg just stood there, ‘er’ing like an idiot for almost a minute before he said anything sorry. “Sorry, anyways, Mycroft sort of needs to stay for Christmas.”

“Tonight? And tomorrow? Wouldn’t his family want him around?”

He sighed. “It’s a long story, Mum. We can talk more when you get back home if you want. Just… can he stay here? For a few days?  He’s got nowhere else to go and I’d hate to just turn him out onto the streets…”

“Well… I suppose he can.” she said after a moment. “But I do expect an actual explanation when I get home.”

“Yeah, Mum. Of course. Love you, bye!” he said, hanging up and putting his phone aside so he could pour the water, which had been boiling for a while.

That had gone far better than expected, but there was still the problem of Mycroft’s dad. If he had gotten so upset over… whatever it was he’d kicked Mycroft out for, he was sure that finding out his son had stayed at his boyfriend’s house for Christmas wouldn’t make it any better. But Christmas Eve wasn’t the time to be worrying about that. He finished the tea after a few minutes and grabbed a handful of the Christmas biscuits his mom had made and took them to his room for Mycroft. For now, he was just going to enjoy the Christmas celebrations with Mycroft.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: So, yeah, time skip like I said. I hope you enjoyed this chapter and the speediness of the update :P I think I've caught the hang of things again so hopefully it'll stay like this :)


	17. In Which They Watch Telly

 

Chapter 17

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Having some tea had been good for the two of them. It had warmed Mycroft up after the walk and helped Greg calm down so they could have calm conversations. They'd munched on some biscuits and drank their tea as they sat together in Greg's bed, talking about school and sports, but nothing particularly important. Not what they were both thinking about.  

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"So... Are you hungry? I can make something for lunch." Greg offered, putting aside his empty tea mug.

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Mycroft shrugged. "I'm all right, thank you." he mumbled, shaking his head.  

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"You really should eat something. " Greg insisted. "I highly doubt your father let you sit down for a nice breakfast  before kicking you out."  

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"I'm not hungry. Really, Gregory." he said. “If anything, I can eat something later.” Mycroft’s insistence that he wasn’t hungry lost most of it’s power of convincing after his stomach growled just loud enough to be heard.

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Greg gave him a skeptical look. “Not hungry, huh?” he asked, crossing his arms over his chest. “I really don’t understand why you feel the need to lie to me. All I’m trying to do is help!”

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Mycroft’s ears turned red. “Well, I’m not terribly hungry. Besides, I’ve already eaten today. On the way over here.”

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He sighed. “I don’t know if maybe your posh nursery school never taught you this, but you’re actually supposed to eat three times a day. Not one.”

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“Well, I’m fine with one. Besides, I just had some tea and biscuits. That really is a bit excess.” Mycroft gestured at the empty tea mug and the half eaten biscuit on the plate.

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Greg sighed. Maybe insisting and insisting wasn’t the right way to go about it. What did he know? The only problems with food he’d ever encountered was that he and his friends ate far too much of it. How has he supposed to know how to handle with the problem of not wanting any of it? The only thing he had to go off of was that his current methods weren’t working at all.

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“Well… I’m going to heat something up for myself. You can stay here or… whatever you want.” Greg shrugged.

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He got up and went to the kitchen, a bit disheartened when Mycroft just stayed in the kitchen and didn’t even attempt to follow. He’d been hoping that he’d come with him and decide to have at least a bit. Still, he really was hungry so he warmed up some of dinner’s leftovers and sat down to eat. After a few minutes, just like he’d hoped, Mycroft came out and sat down at the kitchen table.

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“Want some?” Greg offered. “There’s still some in the microwave.”

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“If I have a bit, will you stop fussing over me?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

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He smiled a bit. “I might. I guess you’ll just have to try to find out, huh?”

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Mycroft sighed and rolled his eyes, but got up and went over to the microwave. He took out the tupperware that Greg had reheated the food in and put what was left into another plate before sitting back down with Greg to start eating. Greg leaned over across the table and kissed him chastely.

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“Thank you,” he smiled. “Mum would kill me if we had a guest over but I didn’t feed them.” Greg joked.

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“Your mother’s nice.” Mycroft commented, pushing around some of the food on his plate with his fork. “You’re very lucky to have her.”

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Greg nodded. “I am.” he agreed. There was a few minutes of silence before Greg started talking again. “Since it’s Christmas Eve, Mum’s probably taking us all out to Midnight Mass. You can stay here if you want,” he offered. “But we’ll be gone for an hour or two.”

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“I don’t mind accompanying your family. It would feel awfully rude of me if I stayed in your home and ignored your usual traditions.” he said, shaking his head.

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Greg shrugged. “Well, you can come, but it’ll be rather boring. And I know Mum wouldn’t mind if you stayed at home. Think about it.” he told him.

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“I’ll think about it,” Mycroft assured him, even though he had already made up his mind to accompany Greg and his family. It would just be awkward not to.

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Greg nodded. When they were done, he stood up and took the dishes to the sink to wash them off. He set them to dry and then went back to the bedroom with Mycroft. He sat down next to him, checking his watch before sighing. "Ryan will be back soon." he told him, frowning.  

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"Is there a problem with your brother being here?" Mycroft asked, raising an eyebrow.  

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"Well... no. But he's a twat." Greg said, shrugging. Mycroft laughed. "I have a younger brother as well. One that I'm sure is far worse than yours. I'll manage." he assured him.  

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"Just ignore him if he does anything particularly twatty." Greg told him.  

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"Yes, Gregory, I promise I'll ignore your brother if he does anything particularly 'twatty'." Mycroft laughed, obviously teasing him.  

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Well, at least he was laughing. So Greg didn't mind it as much as he usually might. "My brother's antics are a huge problem in the family. I wouldn't want you to suffer right along with the rest of us."    

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Mycroft smiled. I am sure I will survive your brother just fine." he assured him, leaning over to give him a kiss.  

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Greg smiled and pulled Mycroft onto his lap as they continued kissing and nipping at each other's lips and jaws and necks. Greg would have gladly spent the rest of the afternoon like that, if he hadn't heard the front door open. He sighed and pulled back, gently moving out from underneath Mycroft. "And there's Ryan." he said standing up and straightening out his shirt before going outside.  

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"Mum left lunch in the fridge, if you're hungry." Greg told him. "Get all your Christmas shopping done?"

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Ryan nodded as he put the bags he'd come in with down on the floor. "Yup. Just gotta wrap them and I'm set. Mum said your boyfriend's here?" he asked, not being subtle in any way at all as he went to look inside their bedroom. He waved at Mycroft, who just sort of sat there awkwardly. "Hey. Staying for Christmas then, huh? That's cute. The rules are no sex in the room. At least not when I'm here. Other than that, you two are golden.”

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Mycroft turned as red as his hair, stuttering as he tried to find an answer. Greg swooped in to save him, rolling his eyes at Ryan. “Oh, shut up. I promise we won’t be shagging when you’re around. Or we might. Just to annoy you. Who knows. I suppose you’ll have to be careful not to piss me off.” Greg shrugged.

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Ryan scowled. “Twat.” he mumbled, sitting on his bed and pulling out the gifts he’d bought to wrap them.

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“C’mon, Myc, let’s leave him to sulk in his fourteen year old hormones.” Greg said, taking Mycroft’s hand and leading him outside to the living room.

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“While I’m still insistent that my brother is far, far worse, yours is annoying in an… interesting way.” Mycroft said, clearing his throat and obviously trying his best not to be rude.

Greg chuckled as he sat down on the couch with Mycroft. He turned the telly on and left the channel playing an old East Enders rerun. "He's fourteen. And my baby brother. All fourteen year old baby brothers are annoying little twats."  

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"I dread thinking of the day when Sherlock hits puberty." he said.

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Greg laughed. "You're going to suffer. So, so much." he said, chuckling.

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Mycroft shook his head. "Please don't remind me."

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Greg smiled and curled up against him. He was content to just lay with Mycroft and watch soap operas with him for a while. Eventually felt Mycroft fall asleep under him and he smiled as he moved off of him. He grabbed a blanket and tossed it over Mycroft's shoulders before getting up to go to his room, where Ryan had just finished wrapping presents and was tucking them under his bed.  

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"So Mum knows he's your boyfriend now?" Ryan asked, looking up at him.  

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Greg nodded as he sat on his own bed across from him. "Yeah. I told her earlier today.  She didn't mind. I mean... I didn't really think she would. But it was a nice confirmation. "

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Ryan nodded. "Yeah, I'm sure she was. So... what happened to your boyfriend's face?" he asked, leaning back against the headboard of his bed.  

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"His dad." Greg sighed. "But... don't mention it in front of him, okay? Not yet, anyway. He doesn't really want to talk about it."  

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"Yeah, sure whatever. You're gonna have to talk about it eventually. I mean, if his dad hits him, that's no good. He can't camp here forever, as much as you would like him too."  

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He sighed, shrugging. "At least let the boy have a calm Christmas season." Greg said.  

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Ryan shrugged. "I suppose so, yeah."  

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"Where is lover boy, anyway?" he asked.   

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"Napping on the couch. I don't think he slept much last night.  And he's insisting on coming to Midnight Mass with us. So I'm just going to go ahead and let him get some sleep now that he can. " he shrugged.

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"Don't worry, I won't go and wake him or anything. So, when's Mum coming home?"  

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"Should be home in about..." Greg checked the time. "I dunno. An hour or so."  

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"And Myc's on the couch so we cant play FIFA." Ryan complained, grumbling.  

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Greg rolled his eyes. "Stop complaining. We'll play FIFA later. Maybe we'd do good with some naps, too. We'll be out until late tonight. Might as well spend the day sleeping."  

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"Naps are for losers."   

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Greg rolled his eyes and threw a pillow over in Ryan’s direction. He didn't bother waiting for a response from his  brother. He turned off their light and laid down for a nap. Ryan didn't have much of a choice. he couldn't go out to the living room and it was too cold to go outside. Greg could hear Ryan's grumbling and complaining for a few minute before he fell asleep. Ryan joined him must have joined him eventually, because Greg next woke to the sound of the front door open and Ryan was fast asleep in the bed next to his.

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He got up, yawning and patting his bed hair down as he went out to the living room. His mother was there moving about quietly as she put some leftovers from the bakery away in the fridge. She was being very careful not to be too loud and wake Mycroft. She smiled when she saw her son, offering him a chocolate chip cookie she’d brought home from work. He thanked her and sat down to eat it.

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“Hey, Mum. Ryan’s napping as well and the twins and Lily are still out with their friends.” he told her.

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She nodded. “That’s fine. It’ll be a long night.” she agreed. “So,” she sat down at the table with him, picking a small piece of a brownie she was holding and popping it in her mouth. “You promised you’d tell me more about what happened with Mycroft.”

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Greg sighed. “It was his dad. He… I dunno, got mad, I guess. Kicked him out or something. He doesn’t really wanna talk about it.”

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Mrs. Lestrade sighed, wringing her hands together. “Greggie, this is a very serious issue. You know this, right?”

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“Yeah,” he mumbled, frowning. “After tomorrow, I promise the three of us will talk it all out. Just please, he’s depressed enough as it is about all this. Let’s not force him to vent when he’s not ready. Especially not on Christmas!” he insisted.

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“Fine. But first thing in the morning on the twenty-sixth, I do hope you know what we’re going to be discussing.” She gave him a pointed look that Greg knew there was going to be no wriggling out of this. Still, it was better than nothing, so he nodded.

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“Yeah, all right, I guess. But at the end of the day, if he doesn’t want to talk, we can’t really make him.” he pointed out. He was ready to have to jump to Mycroft’s defense should his boyfriend not want to share.

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“Oh, sweetheart, it’s sweet that you’re trying to help him, but trust me. In the long run, it’ll be better once he opens up.” His mother assured him with a pat on his knee before standing up and tidying up around the kitchen a bit, all while mumbling about how her boys always seemed to leave behind a mess. As she tidied up and got ready for dinner, she asked Greg to run out for a moment and pick Lily up from where one of their neighbor’s flat.

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Greg readily agreed. The sooner they could get everyone assembled at home, the better. It always took forever to get the whole family ready for mass. There was always whining and complaining and even just getting them all into their baths was a nightmare. On his way out, he leaned down to kiss Mycroft’s forehead, scrawling out a note to explain his absence and placing it on the table next to him, on the off chance that Mycroft woke up in the few minutes that he would be away. He got dressed for the weather and then headed out, glad that at least for once, things almost felt like they were going to be okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: So I'm beginning to think that someone upstairs doesn't want this fic updated because although I had this almost entirely written, through a combination of illness, being grounded, and MUN this took me forever. I'm really sorry guys! Also I would like to take the time to note that Greg is handling both Mycroft's abuse and his possible eating disorder very, very, very badly. Please, please, please if you or someone you know is suffering through something like this or something similar, don't wait to tell someone who can do something about it, don't let them convince you not to tell anyone, don't write it off as something unimportant, and when you do find out, please don't just go about ignoring it! Even if your friend may be mad at first or you feel embarrassed or ashamed, it will be a lot better in the long run if you tell someone you trust and get help. Sorry to get a little preachy, but I think it's really important to take note that Greg is definitely acting like a stupid teenager in this regard and not at all responsibly.


	18. In Which They Go To Church

 Chapter 18

Mycroft and Ryan had both woken up shortly after Mrs. Lestrade arrived, both of them stirred awake by the smell of dinner being cooked. Mrs. Lestrade had greeted Mycroft with a warm smile and a hug, kissing his cheek and making no comment about his situation back home. She immediately started doting on him, sitting him down and making him some tea. The next few hours went by quickly enough and Lily and the twins came back from their time with their friends. They’d all been a bit surprised to see Mycroft, but Lily had been absolutely ecstatic upon finding out that he was going to be staying with them. She had insisted upon sitting on Mycroft’s lap all dinner long, something the redhead was more than happy to comply with.

 

“All right, my loves. Time to shower and get dressed.” Mrs. Lestrade said once they’d all eaten. She cleared the plates off the table and moved them to the sink, so she could clean them off later.  “Mycroft, dear, do you have clothes?”

Mycroft shook his head. “No, ma’am, but Gregory is going to lend me some.” he assured her as Greg nodded in confirmation.

She nodded. “All right. Go on to get showered and ready.” she said, ushering them out toward their room.

 

Greg got up and took Mycroft’s hand to lead him to the bedroom. He closed the door behind him and fished around in his closet for his clothes. “Do you have any sort of preference as to what to wear? You don’t have to dress up too much. Just a shirt and nice pair of trousers would be fine. The pair you’re wearing right now would probably be fine if you just go ahead and wear another shirt with it.”

“Just a white shirt would be fine, Gregory.” Mycroft assured him. Greg handed him a shirt and then pulled out a pair of trousers and shirt for himself.

“You showered this morning, right? Because Lily and the boys usually take way too long in the shower, so it’d be faster if the two of us could skip that.” Greg said, already starting to change into his clothes.

“Yes, I did.” Mycroft nodded. He wasn’t as quick to start undressing, but it would be odd if he didn’t at this point, so he took off his shirt and started changing, if perhaps a bit shyly. “By when did your mother want to be heading out?”

Greg shrugged and checked the time. “Maybe nine or so? For the pre-mass mingling or whatever. It’s all really quite boring, but I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

Mycroft finished buttoning up his shirt quickly and then kissed Greg’s cheek. “It’s quite all right, love.” he assured him. “I’m the one intruding in a holiday. With short notice even. I’d let you drag me off to a whole day of church if you wanted to.”

Greg laughed. “You’re just saying that now.” he told him, squeezing his hand. “But really, you don’t have to thank me for letting you over. I’m glad you’re here. Now, how about we have some biscuits out in the living room while we wait for the others?”

Mycroft nodded, going out to the living room with him. Mrs. Lestrade was busy bustling about to get everyone ready to leave, so they got the couch to themselves for a while as they sat down. Greg wasn’t willing to share more than a few chaste kisses when his mother and siblings were bustling about the house and could walk in any moment, but it was nice to just sit and hold one another while they waited.

After another hour or so, Mrs. Lestrade had managed to get them all ready and in the living room. She fussed over them for a moment, fixing Greg’s collar and straightening out Lily’s dress and even taking a moment to fix Mycroft’s hair with as much tenderness as she had used with her sons.  When she finished, she got them all standing in front of the door and posed for a picture. Mycroft had been hesitant to step in, offering to take the picture for them, but instead Mrs. Lestrade insisted he be in the picture. Greg had grinned, putting an arm around his boyfriend’s shoulder for the picture.

“All right… Smile!” she said, snapping the picture. She took a moment to look at it, practically cooing happily. “Oh, it’s so nice! Your grandparents will love it.”

Mycroft insisted on taking one with Mrs. Lestrade in it and after that picture, they were on their way. Their typical church wasn’t terribly far, so they walked over, despite the cold. Greg walked in the back, holding Mycroft’s hand as they did. It wasn’t a very long walk, just a few blocks away. The temperature had dropped after the sun set and through it thankfully wasn’t raining or snowing, it was fairly windy. The cold did a good job at keeping conversation from starting, as they were all far too busy keeping their heads ducked down from the cold and their coats tugged close to their bodies. When they arrived, Greg helped his mother usher the children onto a pew near the back. When they were finally sitting as as calm as they would ever be, Greg took a seat in the corner and gestured for Mycroft to sit next to him.

“It’ll be about an hour or two.” Greg told him, leaning closer so he could whisper in his ear. “Then whatever… mingling Mum does afterwards. But it shouldn’t be too long. Lily gets rather tired.”

“I’m fine staying as long as your mother wants to.” Mycroft assured him.

“I know. But I’m rather looking forward to getting home and getting some sleep already.” Greg chuckled.

Mycroft smiled and rolled his eyes fondly. “Of course, love, of course. Why didn’t I think of that?” He smiled.

They hadn’t arrived with too much time to spare, so it was only a few more minutes before mass started. It was, in Greg’s opinion, quite boring. He only came to these things for his mother and even the average session was a bore. The ones during the Christmas season were even worse. If Greg had to hear about Mary and Jesus and the manger or whatever one more time, he was sure he was going to go mad. The same story had already been told about a billion times in the last month. It got stale very quickly.

The twins fidgeted throughout most of the hour of mass, but still managed to keep quiet, which was a feat for them. Mycroft had the patience of a saint and though Greg knew his boyfriend would probably rather be anywhere but there, Mycroft didn’t let it show and he was nothing but patient and respectful. When the service was over, his mother went off ahead to have a quick chat with some of her church friends. Lily and the twins went off with her, while Ryan left to a corner with some friends, leaving Greg and Mycroft alone.

“They won’t take more than twenty minutes.” Greg promised. He checked the time as he stood up. It was just past midnight. Far past the younger ones’ bedtimes and either way, Lily would be insisting to go home soon. She’d never want to risk not being in her bed and asleep when Santa came by.

“I’m not as miserable as you seem to think I am, love.” Mycroft told him, chuckling. “It was only an hour. Nothing unbearable.”

“If you say so…” Greg shrugged. There was a small table in the back, with some snacks and drinks. Greg pulled Mycroft over to the back, pouring out two hot chocolates for them and grabbed a cookie to snack on. Mycroft took the hot chocolate offered to him to be polite, but declined the sweets Greg was offering him from the table. It was far too late to be eating, anyways.

Mycroft took a few sips of his hot chocolate, standing close to Greg. He didn’t want to risk getting separated. It wasn’t a huge church, but he still didn’t fancy being separated from Greg and his family. He shifted a little closer to Greg, unable to help being intimidated by all the stained windows and relics on the wall. He didn’t know how Greg was able to put up with this every Sunday with his family.

Greg finished up his snacks and threw them away, casting a glance over at his mother. Sure enough, Lily was beginning to tug at her shirt sleeve, wanting to leave already so she could go to bed. Santa was waiting, after all. He chuckled as he watched them and started leading Mycroft over to the exit. “Lily will be making us leave soon.” he informed him.

“Are the presents at stake?” Mycroft asked with a soft chuckle. There had never been much Christmas spirit in his home, so this was all quite foreign to him, not to mention incredibly adorable. There was very little about Greg’s younger sister that wasn’t adorable.

Greg smiled and nodded. “That’s what she fears, yes.” he agreed.

Lily and the twins came by just a few moments later. Lily took a hold of Greg’s hand, smiling sweetly up at her big brother. “Mummy said you should start going on ahead with us, Greggie.”

Greg leaned down, picking her up. “Did she say when she’d come back home?”

“Nope. She jus’ said in a little bit.” Lily told him, shaking her head. “But she said that we could go back early. So that we can get to sleep for Santa.”

He nodded. “Of course. We can’t miss Santa.” he agreed very seriously. He called Ryan over and had Mycroft hold the door open for them. He let the twins walk on a few meters ahead, employing Mycroft’s help to keep an eye on them while he carried Lily, who was beginning to fall asleep on his shoulder. By the time they’d arrived back home, Lily was fast asleep on top of him and Mycroft, once again, held the door open for them. He put Ryan on twin duty, to start the process of getting them to sleep.

He woke Lily up just enough to have her change into her pyjamas and then tucked her in, leaving her nightlight on before turning off the lights and heading out. Greg yawned, starting to feel more than just a bit sleepy as he changed out of his Sunday clothes and into a pair of pyjama pants and an old shirt. He gave Mycroft something to change into for the night and went to make sure that the twins were in their beds before going back to his room.

Mycroft had finished changing and was standing around, seemingly unsure of what to do. “I can… sleep on the couch if you want.” he offered.

“Don’t be absurd.” Greg said, pulling him down onto the bed with him. “You’ll sleep here with me.”

He blushed, but nodded as he settled down under the blankets. “If you’re sure your mother won’t mind.” he said.

“Of course she won’t.” he assured him, kissing his cheek. He waited until Ryan had finished getting ready and was in his bed on the other side of the room. When his younger brother had gotten under his bedsheets, Greg leaned over and turned off the lamp on the night stand. He gave Mycroft a good night kiss and also said a soft ‘sleep well’ to his brother, who’s only response was a grumbled ‘you two better not have sex while I’m in the room’. Greg had chuckled and thrown a spare pillow over at him, before pulling Mycroft closer and settling down to sleep. Right then and there, he decided there was no better way of sleeping than with Mycroft wrapped up in his arms, as it should be.

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N- Well, I hope you all enjoyed this! :D Merry Christmas to those who celebrate it. Happy Three Kings day to those who celebrate it. And just happy holidays in general! If you live somewere with snow, have a snowball fight in my honor. I really miss the cold :’( Anyways, thanks for all he reviews and everything this has gotten so far! Love you al <3


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